Severity
by Morgana Deryn
Summary: Read To Be A Slytherin. Severus Snape was something to everyone. A spy, a teacher, a Death Eater, a bastard. But to a blind Muggle, he was just a sourpuss with a great voice. Amity Raincrow is determined to make Severus Snape like her, for Lorena Potter's sake if not her own.
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape was not having a busy night. To an outsider, it might have seemed a relief. He had no one expecting anything from him. Dumbledore didn't need him to do anything. The Dark Lord had no use for him again until the semester started. It was close enough to the beginning of term that he had been able to move from Spinner's End to Hogwarts without raising any eyebrows, meaning he was free of Pettigrew, which was never a bad thing. And, since classes had yet to resume, he had no essays to grade. So delighted had he been to finally receive the appointment he'd been angling for for over a decade, he had already completed his lesson plans for the years.

In short, he had an evening in which he had absolutely nothing to do.

It was driving him mad.

He needed something to focus on, something to do, someone to serve. He had become very bad at being alone with his own thoughts at some point over the years – unsurprising really, considering his thoughts were his worst enemy. On free night's during the school year – more often after a particularly dramatic encounter with Lorena Potter – they tended to drive him straight into a bottle of fire whiskey to try and dull them. He was completely aware it was a terrible habit, but he'd yet to find anything else that worked.

He needed an activity, something to do that would take most of his not-inconsiderable mental faculties, leaving him no time to dwell on the past.

There was nothing to brew, as the Hospital Wing was stocked for the year. Thanks to Potter's offer, the Order didn't need him to whip anything up. He took a moment to be annoyed with her for that before brushing it off. He couldn't begrudge her the desire to help. He had no personal projects to work on at the moment.

Reading was also out, he had nothing that he could delve far enough into to block out his thoughts. He'd tried many a night, but he usually ended up staring blankly at the pages and completely consumed in his own worries, regrets, and guilt.

Company, that's what he needed, he decided. But honestly, he didn't want to go to Dumbledore. The old man always welcomed him with a cup of tea and some form of candy that he never took, but he didn't have the patience for Albus tonight. And the idea of strolling into Malfoy Manor to spend the evening with the Dark Lord made him smirk bitterly. Absolutely impossible. It was sad, really, that the first people he thought of for company were his masters. The only man he might consider a friend was locked away in Azkaban at the moment.

Really, his social life was almost worse than it had been in his Hogwarts years. He knew no one outside of the conflict who might be available. And he was fully aware of how pathetic this desperate search for a conversation partner was, but even more pathetic would be spending another night sipping firewhiskey alone in his office.

But that wasn't exactly true, he thought suddenly. He did have an acquaintance outside of this conflict. He would not precisely call her a friend, but Amity Raincrow was an option. His wards were keyed to allow him to Apparate to her, meaning he could go without being seen. And those wards provided the perfect excuse for showing up – checking to make sure they still held. She was perhaps not the most agreeable option, but she was close to the only one, and at the very least squabbling with her a bit would spare him his own company for a while.

That thought in mind, Severus donned his travelling cloak and headed from the dungeons, out onto the grounds and off school property. He would deny being childish, but he did really dislike the fact that Raincrow had gotten the last word in during their last conversation. It felt too much like losing, and the Slytherin in him hated to lose. He felt almost mischievous as he turned and stepped into nothingness. There was the usual squeezing pressure, and just when he thought he wouldn't ever breathe again, he was released and found himself standing in the middle of Raincrow's small flat.

" _Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses."_

Much like the last time he had visited, music was playing. Amity wasn't in the living room. He could hear her singing along softly from the kitchen, along with the sound of gentle scraping. Slowly, perfectly aware of Apparition etiquette and the fact that he'd just stomped all over it, he stalked towards the kitchen. Sure enough, Amity was there, once again in her small pajamas, using a spatula to move cookies from a baking sheet over to a wire rack to cool.

Severus cleared his throat. "Raincrow."

The reaction was immediate. She shrieked and hurled the spatula at him. Startled, Severus knocked it aside with a sweep of his arm as Amity backpedalled with wide-eyes towards a drawer that, going by her frantic features, he strongly suspected held kitchen knives. Cursing, he lunged a grabbed the wrist of her outstretched hand to keep her from grabbing one. In response, she turned around and, with surprising accuracy, punched him in the eye.

"Merlin, woman!" he swore, and staggered back, clutching his eye and scowling heartily. So much for a good idea, this had turned out to be far more trouble than expected.

"Christ on a cracker!" Amity swore. "I- Severus? Is that you?"

He nodded and then rolled his eyes at himself, remembering that she couldn't see him. "Yes, it is."

"Well son of a protestant whore!" She swore once more and stalked past him, seizing a dish towel from the counter as she passed and yanking open the door of the refrigerator.

"Okay, I get you people have an aesthetic going on, but I'm pretty sure breaking and entering was always illegal, or at the very least frowned upon, even way back in the Dark Ages," she lectured him as she began to pull ice out and pack it into the towel. "Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" she muttered as she turned around and shoved the ice pack at him. "Here, keep the swelling down."

"Don't bother." Severus drew his wand and, with a flick, healed the area around his eye. After all, he could hardly turn up at Hogwarts with a black eye and not raise questions. "Like it never happened."

Amity stood there and stared over his shoulder for a second, the ice beginning to melt and drip down her arm. She shivered and, with a sound of annoyance, shook the ice out of the towel and into the sink.

"So you just healed it with magic, then?" she confirmed. "Okay, good, then I won't feel so bad about doing this." She whipped around and snapped the towel at his arm. "Screw you, Severus! Don't just come popping in here! Creeping around like some kind of pervert… Announce yourself or call ahead – owl ahead, I guess – or do the chicken dance, hell I don't care, just make some noise!" She placed a hand over her heart and tossed the towel back onto the counter, leaning her lower back against it with a sigh.

"Are you quite finished with your abuse?" he asked her tartly, already deeply regretting his decision to come here. She was far more annoying than he remembered, which was rather impressive, really. In an annoying way.

"Don't you _even_ take that tone with me, honey," she said darkly, shoving a finger at him. "I'm perfectly within my rights to be annoyed with you for just popping in with no warning." She stuck her nose into the air. "Just for that, no cookies for you!" she said haughtily, and picked up the plate from the counter, striding past him into the living room.

Severus smirked – he had hardly come for her baking after all, though it did smell nice. She looked like a petulant child as she plopped down on her couch with the plate of cookies in her lap and tucked her legs under her. She paused and informed him, "Fetch me a glass of milk and I'll forgive you. I forgot in all the _absolute terror."_

Severus wasn't entirely sure why he was going along with her request as he pulled the milk from the fridge and poured her a glass, carrying it into the living room for her. Perhaps some instinctive urge to help a disabled woman, though given how hard she'd hit him, it was very hard for him to think of her as disabled. He reached up to touch his cheekbone just under his eye as he passed the glass.

"You have a surprisingly powerful right hook," he informed her.

"Damn straight," she said, and patted the couch next to herself for him to sit.

Severus did so. The whole situation felt strangely surreal. When was the last time he just sat and had a conversation with someone? A conversation that had nothing to do with the war or his subject or any of the other myriad things he had to worry about and concern himself with. It was oddly exciting, the thought of doing something so painfully normal when the world was falling apart around them all, the sort of normal that other people had but he never got.

"So, how's our girl?" Amity asked, biting into one of the cookies. Chocolate chip, he observed, and still warm, going by the smear of chocolate left at the corner of her lips. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the woman referring to Lorena Potter as 'their girl.' Certainly they were the ones who cared the most about the girl, but she would have screamed in outrage at being called 'theirs' and that he knew for certain.

"Doing as well as can be expected of her," Severus commented. "And far better than could be expected from anyone else."

Amity smiled proudly. "Uh huh, that's her. So what's she looking at this year, as far as Defense Against the Dark Arts? She tells me that there's always a new teacher. Another Umbridge?"

Severus couldn't contain his smile of pride. It occurred to him that it didn't matter if he was grinning like a loon because she couldn't see him anyway, and the thought was oddly pleasing. "Thankfully not. I will taking the position."

Amity's face crumpled in confusion. "But you teach potions…"

"I have applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position every years since I began teaching at Hogwarts. I have always been denied."

Amity tilted her head, still looking lost. "Why? I mean if you can teach it and there's apparently always a struggle to fill the post… Might be easier to replace you than whatever teacher just left." Her mouth curved into a teasing smirk and she reached out, settling her hand on his shoulder and cooed, "Although I'm sure you're irreplaceable, honey."

Severus shoved her hand off of him, annoyance rising. "Must you do that?" he asked tartly.

Amity grinned and fell back, leaning her spine against the armrest. Seemingly without thought, she slid her toes under Severus's thigh. Her feet were cold. He jumped slightly, but was prevented from saying anything when she spoke.

"I really must," she assured him. "So tell me… what sort of things will you be teaching?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "In class or after class?" he asked. Did she mean what would he be teaching in general or what would he be teaching Potter?

"Ooh, you give lessons after class?" she asked, bobbing her eyebrows lewdly.

"Woman, I'm warning you…"

Amity threw back her head and laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. For now," she added with a crooked grin. "Come on Severus, talk to me. Wait…" She frowned. "What are you even doing here? I don't think I asked."

"I came to check the status of my wards," Severus replied instantly. Amity's mouth opened into a small o. She smiled faintly and shook her head, raising her glass to her lips. Her expression was knowing as she lowered it and drawled,

"Right. So, tell me, Mr. Magical Genius, am I still safe?"

"Theoretically," he said simply.

"Though I do have one of Lord Frenchie's men in my house," Amity said, pulling one foot out from under him long enough to nudge him lightly in the leg before replacing it with a grin.

"Potter told you of my role." Severus sighed. "She seems incapable of keeping secrets from you."

"I just have one of those faces."

"I hardly think-" Severus paused. "I'm sorry, _what_ did you call the Dark Lord?"

"Lord Frenchie," Amity repeated shamelessly. "Because of his name. Vol de mort means flight from death in French, and going by what Lorena's told me I doubt that's a coincidence. Although with that logic, his name should properly be pronounced without the T, but I guess he wasn't too familiar with the French language when he rechristened himself. After all, you usually only pronounce the last consonant if there's an 'e' after it."

Severus blinked. He would be so certain that Amity Raincrow was an idiot and a joker, with not a serious or practical or intelligent bone in her body, and then she'd say something like that and reveal that now only was she smart, she was clever enough to take that knowledge and apply it in ways others wouldn't think of. It was an ability not everyone had.

"You're looking at me funny, I can feel it," Amity said slowly. "What'd I say?"

"You're a cleverer woman than I originally assumed."

Amity smirked. "Thanks, I think?"

"Do you enjoy languages?"

"Well hey, I don't have my eyes to go by, so I mostly listen. And yeah, other languages interest me." She shrugged. "I can get by in Spanish and I know a little bit about French, at least the structure. I can see 'O Christmas Tree' in German – we're not going to talk about why. And of course, Tsalagi."

Severus tilted his head. "I'm not familiar with the last one."

"Of course you're not," she scoffed. "Very few people are – from a conversational standpoint, it's next to useless." Her lips tilted knowingly and she commented slyly. "I'm a halfblood too, you see. My dad was Cherokee, my mom was white, but she picked up the language. She taught me."

"Native American," Severus mused to himself. "I'm told that they have a particular system of magic which doesn't involve the use of wands to perform spells."

Amity blinked. "Do we? Huh." She shook her head. "Wouldn't surprise me, I guess, not anymore than finding out magic is a thing that exists." She shook her head and smiled faintly. "Sorry, we got sidetracked. We were talking about you."

"I am far from a good topic of conversation," Severus said shortly. Amity shook her head.

"Oh, I disagree. You don't realize, do you, how fascinating all of this is to me? You could sit here and tell me about the myriad different ways to cook dinner with magic and I'd be completely entertained. Mostly, I just like listening to you talk."

Severus frowned. He was well aware that his voice was one of his very few redeeming features, and he appreciated it insomuch as it gave him the ability to effortlessly command a classroom and sound as though he were sneering and disdainful without ever having to change his expression. There was nothing better than watching people work out if he meant a comment cruelly or in jest. He had never had anyone express such an open adoration for listening to him, however. Certainly, none of his students felt the same.

He sneered. "You are in dire need of better sources of entertainment."

Amity snorted. "Well yeah, but I can't exactly go and _see_ a picture, can I?" she asked sarcastically. "Think about it though – you can look past someone when they're talking or ignore them, but all I've got is voices. I have to pay attention and listen, and do you know how annoying that is when someone sounds like they need an extra eight hours of sleep, or like they're a squirrel that just sucked helium? Would you rather listen to heavy metal or Beethoven twenty-four seven? You, sweetie, are a _symphony."_

"Then let us pray you never miraculously become able to see, or I would surely ruin the illusion for you," he replied, forcing aside the flattered feeling because it was silly and pointless.

Amity chuckled. "Oh please, you think Lorena hasn't given me the complete checklist? She never shuts up about you, I had to know what you looked like, and she gave me the full rundown. Scarecrow of a man always wearing black with a Roman nose and dark eyes, greasy hair, bad teeth. By this point I reckon I've got a pretty decent mental picture of what you look like." She sat back smugly.

"It's nice to hear how Potter would describe me," he muttered. He was completely aware of how he looked. Years ago, those words might have stuck like burrs under his skin. But he'd heard far worse from people he hated far more and now he was not even remotely phased by Amity's less-than-flattering reeling off of his physical characteristics. "Did she give you the list of nicknames as well? Pinocchio, Bat of the Dungeons, Slithering Snake?"

Amity smiled. "First of all, Bat of the Dungeons would be a great name for a band. Secondly, Pinocchio seems a bit childish, and thirdly… is that last not kind of true?"

He smirked. "Perhaps."

Amity shrugged carelessly and threw up an arm, draping her forearm across the top of her head. "Besides, I heard redskin, halfblood. I think the one I was most impressed by was cave shrimp, that one took some actual knowledge."

He stared at her blankly. "Cave shrimp?"

"Kentucky cave shrimp," she supplied. "Little shrimp with no eyes, no pigment in their shells. They live in the caves under the state, mostly Mammoth Cave."

Severus scoffed. "And you found that impressive?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "When someone manages to come up with a nickname that actually requires a little bit of knowledge, that's a rarity. Snake? That's like a step above buttface."

"Have you ever considered therapy as a career choice?"

"Hell no," Amity laughed. "I'd have to pretend to care about other people's problems." She tilted her head, resting her cheek on the backs of her fingers. "So, Severus," she continued, "why'd you really drop _in_ tonight?"

His eyes narrowed as she stared past him knowingly. It was a bit unnerving, actually, the way her eyes never actually seemed to focus on him but instead beyond him, like she could see straight through. Her eyes, for all that they couldn't see, were a very good gauge of her emotions, however, and they always seemed to be laughing, much like Dumbledore's damned perpetual twinkle. Somehow, he found this less irritating than the headmaster.

"I told you, I was checking the wards."

"Yeah, cuz you seem like the guy who does work that needs checking up on," Amity rolled her eyes and smiled. "You know, you want company, all you've got to do is send me a note telling me you're coming."

"You can't read it."

Amity smiled knowingly, looking almost proud of her knowledge as she sang, "Howler, sweetie! Lorena came up with that one, and thanks to Muggle speech-to-text software, I can speak letters back." Her face crumpled into a scowl. "Now I've got to figure out a way to get my hands on an owl and I can actually talk to that girl." Her expression was serious for once, and mildly stressed, concern plain. "She needs somebody to talk to, I think."

For the life of him, Severus couldn't imagine what persuaded him to offer. Possibly because he intended to go to Diagon Alley in two days anyway, for the sake of checking with the apothecary there and making sure his usual standing orders were still in place for the year – students could always be counted on to go through armadillo bile and standard ingredient powder faster than he could get more in. And Eyelop's was not far…

He recognized the value of Amity Raincrow being able to communicate with Lorena. He understood exactly why Potter had let this woman in on their world – it was beyond liberating to be able to speak freely with someone who had no preconceived notions about things in their world and who listened, actually listened, though that was admitted peppered with swears and crass jokes. He found himself wishing he had a personal Amity Raincrow. The idea was oddly appealing, and she had offered…

For so very long he had been entirely alone. The moment Lily abandoned him was the moment he lost the one friend he'd ever had. As long as he had been teaching at Hogwarts or been a part of the Order, he had never made a friend. They were work colleagues, acquaintances at best. Most of the Order made no secret of the fact that they couldn't stand him and while his fellow teachers were at the very least more accepting, the only one who knew much about him was McGonagall, who was aware of his actions as a spy, as a Death Eater, as a teacher, as Pomfrey's supplier of potions, and as a hundred other things.

The idea of having a person who was entirely removed from that world, from his work as a teacher, as a Death Eater, as a spy, who he could simply sit with and talk to as Severus Snape and not as the person who simply filled a slot on a game board was heady and tempting. How long had it been since he'd spoke to someone who wasn't using him in one way or another? Had he ever, really?

Knowing that he was going to regret it the moment he said it, Severus opened his mouth and ground out, "In two days time, I will be going to Diagon Alley. If you would like, I can procure for you an owl while I'm there."

Amity's face lit with delight and thankfulness and she sat up. She took care to move the plate of cookies off the couch and onto the coffee table, and for a moment Severus thought she planned to get up and walk away. But no, she launched herself at him, and he suddenly found himself with a ridiculous Muggle woman sprawled halfway across his lap, arms holding tightly around his shoulders and her laughing face pressed into his chest.

"Thank you, Severus! Seriously, you have no idea how much this means to me, and don't worry, I'll pay you back – as soon as I work out what the conversion rate is – and if you need a favor from me, don't hesitate to ask."

Severus was never comfortable being hugged, even as a child. When his mother passed away shortly after he left school, that was the end of any hugs for him, a loss he hadn't really mourned. Then Lorena Potter showed up, with her alarming tendency to hug him and sob into his robes. And now Amity Raincrow seemed to be developing the habit as well.

Damnation and hellfire. He knew he would regret offering.

"Get off me!" he snapped, and Amity squeezed him one last time but did indeed crawl off of him and settle herself back against the couch.

"I see what Lorena means, you really are a sweetheart," Amity said.

"Woman, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop with the terms of endearment," Severus snapped at her as he straightened his robes, scowling thunderously.

Amity shrugged. "Hey, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me woman. Raincrow works fine, ya know." She feigned shock at the idea and breathed, "Maybe one day we'll even work up to _Amity._ " She gave a melodramatic gasp and clapped her hands to her mouth. "Can you imagine?"

All in all, Severus thought as he settled into his quarters again later that night with a plastic bowl full of fresh cookies, the night wasn't bad. On the whole, he would have preferred someone a bit more serious for company and he didn't think that he would ever become used to her insistence on flirting with him and her seeming delight in trying to embarrass him, but Amity Raincrow was definitely not bad company.

Contemplatively, he picked up a cookie and bit into it as he stared into the flames. He hadn't had anything to drink tonight, he noted, and he hadn't even thought of anything terribly depressing or painful once. Perhaps Amity's raucousness was good for something – she drew attention to herself so flawlessly that he had none left to turn inward, and that was a blessing in a way.

He did note that he'd also managed to provide himself with an excuse to see her again. Barring unforeseen circumstances, that should be in about two days. He breathed out wearily. They were the same age, but she made him feel incredibly old. He was aged beyond his years whereas she remained young at heart, and the stark difference only made him more and more aware of the things he'd missed in life. Yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it, because if he wasn't doing what he was doing, then the Light would be in far direr straits than they were now.

But really, did she _have_ to keep flirting?


	2. Chapter 2

Severus found himself in the very annoying position of having to consider Amity Raincrow's preferences. He stood in Eyelop's Owl Emporium, facing a wall of bird cages and the owls inside of them. The smell, which was enough to make most people hurry in for what they needed and flee for fresh air, didn't bother him after so many years dealing in potions ingredients. Which, unfortunately, meant he had no excuse to rush this.

He stood there and told himself that considering she couldn't see it anyway, it hardly mattered what kind of owl he got for her. And yet, the woman mattered, because she mattered to Potter, and Potter mattered to him, so by extension he now had to give some kind of damn about the woman personally.

One barn owl caught his attention. The thing was making a racket in one of the higher cages and, like it saw him looking, it suddenly stopped and turned its back on him. Its head swiveled around to look at him and it hooted at him reproachfully, as if to say, "What are you looking at?"

"P-P-Professor Snape?"

The boy working in the store was Billy Haywood, a Hufflepuff who had graduated about five years before. He'd always been decent in Care of Magical Creatures, Severus recalled, but he was absolutely dismal when it came to potions, the Neville Longbottom of his year, and as such Billy feared him more than most of his ex-students. Not by any stretch of the imagination had Severus been kind to him.

"C-C-Can I help you?" stammered the sandy blond man.

"That one," Severus commanded, pointing to the barn owl. "And I shall need a cage and food to go along with it."

"S-School owls not cu-cutting it for you, s-s-sir?" Billy said with a weak laugh, the attempt at humor half-hearted at best. Severus simply gave the boy his best commanding stare and he hastened to comply, pulling a standard cage from a pile by the door and getting a ladder to climb up and coax the owl into the cage.

Severus took his purchases and handed the money to a stammering Billy before sweeping from the store and stepping out into Diagon Alley. For the sake of convenience, he simply Apparated from the sidewalk, one moment in the shopping district and the next standing in the living room of Amity's home.

Unable to resist, Severus called out, "I am not going to do the chicken dance."

" _God damn it!"_ There was the sound of cursing and hasty footsteps in the kitchen, and then the sink was gushing. Curious, Severus set the owl down on the floor where it hooted indignantly at being left behind and made his way into the kitchen. As she always seemed to be when he came to call, Amity was cooking, a grilled cheese sandwich browning in a cast iron skillet on the stove. Amity herself was standing by the sink with her hand thrust under the water, scowling thunderously. It was easy to guess going by the reddened skin of her fingers that he had startled her again and she'd knocked her hand against the skillet.

"You are a klutz," Severus accused as he swept forward and pulled out his wand. Amity glared at him as well as she was able and muttered irritably,

"I'm putting a bell on your sneaky ass."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Fine way to welcome someone who's just done you a favor."

"Yeah, well, you made me hurt myself." Amity nodded pointedly at her hand under the water. Severus rolled his eyes and seized her wrist, pulling it from under the icy spray. "Hey, what-"

The tip of his wand touched her skin and a simple nonverbal healing spell later, the burn was completely gone, like it had never happened. Amity froze, and he allowed her to gently pull her hand free. Seeming fascinated, she prodded the area delicately with the fingers of her other hand, testing for lingering pain, but Severus knew there was none. He was no Madam Pomfrey, but he'd learned enough from tending his own wounds over the years that he was confident with basic healing spells like these.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit," Amity mumbled, and Severus couldn't restrain a chuckle at that one.

"You are a font of charming colloquialisms."

Amity looked up at him and smirked, dropping her hands to hang by her side. "I'll have you talking like a country boy before you know it," she teased, nudging her hip against his as she passed. She picked up a potholder and grabbed the handle of the skillet, picking up a spatula and flipping the sandwich over in the pan. "Want one?" she asked. "I've got enough for another sandwich."

"No thank you," Severus said, but Amity shot him a look.

"That wasn't a question," she informed him. "You're staying for lunch."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "And if I have plans?"

"Do you?" she challenged.

Regrettably, he did not. He would have loved to see her face if he said he did, so instead he seated himself at the kitchen table.

"I brought you an owl, as promised," he informed her, and she grinned.

"Bless you, honey. How much do I owe you?" she asked him, and Severus gave her the amount after a moment of thought converting Galleons into Muggle money. She nodded and pulled the sandwich out of the pan, putting it on a plate waiting and carrying it to the table, setting it down in front of him. Severus examined the sandwich as she walked back to the stove to start her own.

Severus picked up the sandwich and took a bite. It had been a very long time since he'd eaten something so simple. At Hogwarts meals were always more than one course and during the summer he was just as likely to go out to eat as he was to simply forget to eat. But he couldn't afford to miss meals anymore, and whatever else Raincrow was, she was a good cook.

The problem he faced these days was that his body was having to pull every bit of nourishment he got to help fuel the three to five healing potions or spells that he currently had in his system at any given time these days. He simply burned through whatever energy food gave him too fast and the solution of stuffing his face was completely intolerable to his sense of self control. The part of him that loathed the authorities he lived under was equally disgusted by the idea of bowing to any more demands, even those of his own body.

"You gonna sit there in silence or are you gonna talk to me?" Amity said suddenly, and Severus looked towards her. She moved slowly as she cut slices of bread off of a loaf, wary of her fingers.

"Do you have some kind of inborn need to feed everyone who sets foot in your home?" Severus replied. He found himself watching her curiously as she buttered the bread and laid down the cheese. Despite her inability to see what she was doing, she made up for it by going slow and being careful.

"Yes I do, as a matter of fact," Amity replied, seemingly unconcerned. She winked at the wall, which Severus assumed was directed at him, and watched as she settled the sandwich into the pan and pressed it down with a spatula. "It's called Southern hospitality, maybe you've heard of it?"

"I always considered it a stereotype," he admitted as he took another bite of his sandwich. "I'm being very quickly proven wrong."

Amity snorted and began to laugh as she continued to prod the sandwich with her spatula. "May you never say that again or may all the matriarch of the south rise up and bless your heart."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That would be a powerful blessing."

Amity laughed again and shook her head. "Oh no. Bless your heart very rarely means what you'd think. For example: 'bless your heart, but you know you oughtn't to be doing that.' 'Bless her heart, but you know she should know better.' 'Bless his heart, but I hear there were drugs involved.'"

"It's an insult, then."

Amity's mouth curved into a sly grin. "Now you're getting it. Sweet as pie, tough as nails. Catty without ever saying an unkind word."

Severus found himself caught in the odd, teasing mood that seemed to follow Amity like a cloak wherever she went and he found himself saying, "Ah, so you are specially trained in the art of being annoying, then? I had wondered at your particular skill."

Amity turned to look at him, scowling and giving him an unimpressed look. "Hush up and eat your sandwich, or I will train my new owl to peck you when you come visit. No idea how, but I will. I am, after all, _particularly skilled."_

Severus smirked as she tried to mimic him. Her fake accent was an absolute travesty, her own muddling it. And as much as she tried to deepen her voice, she still couldn't come close to his own pitch. In short, she sounded quite ridiculous and not at all like him.

"I feel as though you were trying to do an impression, but I can't place it…"

"Oh, you…" Amity shook her head, but there was no venom in her words as she lifted the sandwich out of the pan and onto another plate. She set the spatula in the sink and brought her plate to the table to join him.

Whatever else Eileen Prince might have been, she had raised her son to be polite, so Severus hooked his ankle around the other chair and dragged it out for the Muggle woman. It was hardly standing and smoothly pulling the seat back, but it was something, and it made Amity blink in surprise.

"Ah, thanks…" she said quietly, and sat down, taking a bite of her sandwich. She chewed, swallowed, and asked, "Do you cook?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. It was one of the questions that anyone who had a reputation for brewing had learned to expect and while normally it annoyed him, it was said with such innocence and honest curiosity that he forwent his usual reply - usually a cutting response about how no, he performed photosynthesis for nutrients.

"Sometimes, but I don't enjoy it as much as you probably assume," he replied, unable to keep the last shot out of his words.

Amity didn't seem even remotely offended. "Hm, I could see that. You brew all day, probably the last thing you want to do is come home and cook. What's your favorite food?" she continued.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And how is that relevant?"

"Because I've decided I'm going to cook you dinner at some point," Amity informed him, and Severus nearly choked on his neck bite of sandwich.

"Do I get a say in this?"

"No," Amity replied carelessly. "Come on, what would you like me to make?"

Severus paused. It was such a simple question, a basic question. Favorite color, favorite food, hobbies… and yet he couldn't recall the last time someone had asked him any of those questions, or the last time he'd actually had to think up an answer.

"Steak, I suppose," he replied slowly, watching the woman carefully. She nodded as if making a mental note.

"Sides? Baked potato? I've always liked potato with my steak."

Severus narrowed his eyes. He felt as if he was falling into some kind of trap, yet he couldn't for the life of it figure out what it was. "I agree."

Amity grinned at him, and the little crooked teasing grin was back in place. "Meat and potatoes, huh? My kind of man?" And after a brief pause, Severus found her foot slowly working its way up his calf under the table. He jumped, banging his knees on the underside of the table, and Amity leaned back in her chair, laughing wildly.

"Woman…" he growled.

"To answer your growl, no, I won't stop. You're entirely too much fun. Saturday after next. Seven."

"I don't see why I should come when I knew that I will be the butt of your crass jokes all evening," Severus grumbled.

Amity arched an eyebrow. "Ooh, and here I thought you were made of stronger stuff." Her voice was a bit too sweet, a bit too light to be genuine. He scowled at her.

"I will not be manipulated into attending dinner with you."

"Oh, alright," she pouted. "I promise to take it easy on you."

In the end, Severus agreed to join her for dinner. He told himself it was to make sure she hadn't killed the owl, to bring a report back to Potter on how her made boss was doing, but he'd never been very good at lying to himself. The truth was, this was perhaps the first time he'd been invited to dinner without an ulterior motive, and part of him really wanted to know what that was like.

Of course, his thoughts could not stay self-deprecating for long.

"I will see you Saturday," Severus said as he left, stepping out onto the landing.

Amity grinned wickedly. "It's a date," she replied, and shut the door before he could reply.


	3. Chapter 3

His Muggle dinner etiquette had been all but forgotten, and Severus actually found himself wondering what one wore to dinner with a mad woman that was not a date no matter what she said. Then it occurred to him that he could have showed up in a poncho and kilt for all Amity would know, and resigned himself to black slacks and a black button down. Armed with his wand and a bottle of firewhiskey, Severus stepped beyond the boundaries of the school and Disapparated.

He arrived on the landing of Amity's apartment and raised his hand, knocking politely. As amusing as it was to startle her, he did feel somewhat bad about causing her a burn last time. Severus was surprised when not a second later the door opened, revealing a woman who most certainly wasn't Amity Raincrow.

This woman was pale as milk, with big blue eyes. She was near anorexically skinny. The only thing that this woman had in common with Amity was being above average in height and something in the shape of her nose.

The woman was obviously very annoyed about something as well, because instead of inviting him in, she stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind herself. Severus was forced to take a step back, sneering down at the woman as he did.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Abigail, Amity's cousin," the woman replied bluntly. "And you're the cad that decided it made perfect sense to make a _blind woman_ cook for him."

Severus blinked, startled. "Raincrow offered and seems perfectly capable-"

"Yes _, well_ ," the woman huffed, and with an air like she was trying to explain why two plus two equals four, continued, "Amity likes to think she can do things just as well as a seeing person, but that's just not true, is it? Now if you want to be her friend, fine, but there are things you have to know. Don't move anything in her apartment, she can find where it all is now and we wouldn't want her to trip. And if you can't keep her out of the kitchen, then you should stick close and be watchful so she doesn't hurt herself. If something is spilled, make sure to tell her and clean it up as quickly as possible so that she doesn't slip. And-"

The door was yanked open and a deeply infuriated Amity Raincrow was revealed standing there. Her hair was actually fixed for once, pulled high and tight on her crown and accentuating the sharp corners and hollows of her features. She had a thunderous scowl on her face and Severus thought that, for once, she was the one being annoyed.

"Abby," Amity growled out. She seemed to be trying and failing to force calmness. "What are you doing?"

Abby sighed and gave Severus an exasperated look. "I was just telling your friend here how to deal with you…"

"I don't need dealing with…"

"It's no problem to admit that you need help…"

"Except that I don't…"

"Now _really_ , Amity!" Abigail huffed, and actually stomped her foot. "If you _insist_ on trying to do things like a normal person then it falls to the people around you to make sure you're okay! Don't get mad at us for trying to take care of you."

"I don't need," Amity growled out, "anyone taking care of me. And if you don't get out of this house and go meet your friend, I will personally set fire to your suitcase…"

"Fine!" Abigail snapped, reaching in the door and snatching a purse off the hook by the door. "I will!" She headed for the landing, nose in the air, but not before catching Severus's arm and hissing, "You know Amity has a history of hallucinations, correct? If she begins to hear things, then you should try to talk her out-"

" _Abigail so help me god!"_

Severus mused to himself that thus far the night had been vastly more entertaining than expected as Abigail headed down the stairs and Amity sagged in the doorframe, glaring hatefully at the wall opposite.

"Can I interest you in a slightly used busybody cousin?" Amity snarled.

"I see you two get along well," Severus noted with a faint smirk. Amity gave a noise of disgust and beckoned him inside with an angry wave of her arm. Severus stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Should I check the kitchen for any spills before you walk in?" he offered snidely, and Amity actually reached out and whacked him in the shoulder. "Hm, I had brought a bottle of firewhiskey, but thus far you have not been a terribly polite hostess…"

"Oh, thank the lord!" Amity cried gratefully, and stretched out her hands. Severus pressed the bottle into her hand. She gripped it with one hand and his wrist with the other, going up on her toes and guiding herself by sliding her hand up his arm. She planted a thankful kiss on his cheek and was sashaying into the kitchen before Severus could step away from her.

Shaking his head and scowling, he followed her into the kitchen where the table had been neatly set. He smiled slightly when he looked down at the place settings and realized that the salad and table forks were transposed at one. It was oddly endearing. She could cook a steak dinner but setting out forks…

"Why invite your cousin to visit when you so clearly don't get along?" Severus challenged, and, for lack of a better place to be, leaned himself against the wall of the kitchen opposite the table, where he would be mostly out of the way.

"Didn't," Amity grunted, and swiped a few frizzing baby hairs behind her ears as her ponytail swayed behind her, a long spill of ink down her back. Severus noted with amusement that she and Lorena had similar taste in hairstyles, apparently. "She was coming to visit a friend she met in college who lives here now and informed me that she was staying here. Supposedly it's a familial check to see how I'm doing and catch up," Amity sneered, "but the truth is she's just cheap and likes to patronize me." She gestured to him with a long wooden spoon as she paused in tossing the salad. "I'm sure she'll go back and tell _dear_ Aunt Tabitha that I've got a gentleman caller."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Do you get along with any of your family?"

"Yeah, my momma, before she passed on. Other than that, no."

"Why invite me when your cousin was going to be here?"

"Because she was supposed to leave for drinks twenty minutes ago. Should have known better though, she takes 'fashionably late' seriously. Sit down and I'll have the salads at the table in a second," Amity requested. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine," Severus replied, making his way over to the table and sitting down. Amity bustled about the kitchen for a few moments before bringing over drinks and salads. Severus noted with amusement that she had even chilled the salad bowls. For all that she claimed to have grown up poor, she apparently did still have a passing knowledge of the finer things in life.

Amity set some classical music to play in the background and then joined him at the table. Once more, Severus hooked her chair with his ankle and pulled it out for her. Amity smiled faintly and settled herself in her chair, fingers skimming over the cutlery for a moment before picking up the salad fork.

"You moved something on me," Amity ribbed gently and Severus scoffed as he picked up his own fork.

"Anyone who believes you can't handle yourself in your own home has clearly never met you."

Amity shot him a grateful look. "Thank you. If there's one thing I can't stand it's being babied. I can't see, true, but that doesn't mean I'm entirely helpless. Treating me with kid gloves does nothing but make me mad. It's why I liked Lorena so much when I hired her." Amity smiled with fond nostalgia. "She never followed after me like a lost puppy and warned me about 'dangers.'"

"Potter has never been one to coddle people," Severus agreed. The salad was delicious, greens, cranberries, and candied walnuts with some sort of vinaigrette dressing. Light and pleasant, and he found himself eating quite happily. Perhaps there was something to the belief that home-cooked meals were better.

They spent the salad course exchanging stories about Lorena Potter, their main point of connection. Severus found himself deeply enjoying the conversation. True to her word, Amity had eased up on the teasing. On top of that, there was something oddly freeing about talking to her. He didn't have to school his features with her. He could grin like a fool or start crying and she would never know, wouldn't judge him. It lifted a weight he hadn't realized had been hanging on his shoulders.

Amity took the salad bowls to the sink to be washed later and returned with steak, steamed broccoli and baked potatoes, butter, salt, bacon bits, cheese. She settled it all down and Severus began fixing his potato to his specifications.

That was when Amity spoke up. "You're not going to ask?" Her expression was wry. "I figured you wouldn't hesitate to pounce on it."

"Ask what?"

Amity's voice went high and mocking as she said, "Amity has a history of hallucinations…"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I was already well aware you're insane."

Amity's mouth dropped open and she stared at him in mock offense. "I'll have you know that you've just deeply wounded the voices in my head," she informed him, and Severus replied with a smirk that honestly leaned more towards a smile.

"I assume that, like me, you have parts of your life you don't discuss freely. If there is a history of mental illness… that's not my concern until the voices tell you to do something to me."

"Oh, look who's got jokes now!" Amity teased. She reached out and patted his thigh. The gesture was unexpected, yet so completely casual. Severus flinched badly. He didn't think he would ever get used to her careless tactility with him. It had been a long time since he'd been touched in any way that didn't bring pain and much as he wished it wasn't so he found that his body tensed without his permission. Thankfully, Amity didn't seem to notice.

"Get a good meal in you and you get sassy, I'll keep that in mind," Amity chuckled, a smile stretching across her face. "No, you know what?" She looked ahead of her contemplatively. She might have looked like she was ignoring him, but Severus was beginning to realize that sometimes she just didn't bother facing someone when she spoke with them. "Why the hell not?"

Amity set down her fork and folded her fingers together, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. "So Abigail's mother, Tabitha, is my father's sister."

"Your father," Severus repeated slowly, already starting to somewhat understand the conflict. "Who-"

"-beat me like a dog, yes," Amity finished mildly. "To this day Tabitha doesn't believe that her brother hit mother or I. She calls it all my 'hallucinations' and Abigail believes her mother. It's why things have always been tense between my mother and I and my father's family. Frankly, we would have cut ties with them completely but they won't _go the hell away_ … you sure I can't interest you in a cousin?"

Severus smirked. "Thank you, no."

"Damn." Amity scowled at her steak and began to cut it into bite-sized pieces with extreme prejudice. "So, there you go. You don't have to worry about me lunging at you with this steak knife."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to over share?" Severus asked with a light smirk, trying to goad her into yet another mild fight. It was actually enjoyable to have someone to exercise his wit on that he didn't have to worry about running off to whine to their Head of House, who would then whine to him.

Amity smirked right back at him. "No, actually. I don't tell people the things I tell you, doll."

Severus arched an eyebrow, surprised. "You barely know me, woman. Why on earth would I be your chosen confidante?"

"Because you need one and I'm hoping you'll reciprocate," Amity replied bluntly. "You and Lorena, I swear, it seems like everything I hear about the pair of you you're off to smite evil or wade into some life-threatening nonsense. Besides, you don't get all weird on me when I say things like that." She brandished her fork to mark her point and turned back to her food.

"Weird?" Severus repeated. "If anyone here is weird…"

"Don't," Amity huffed. "I know where you're going, and it's too easy for you to bother with."

Severus smirked. "Hm, perhaps you're right about that. What do you mean by I 'don't get all weird on you.'"

"You know, the pitying looks, awkward silence, people don't know how to respond, they walk on eggshells. _Weird,_ " Amity summarized.

Severus huffed. He could certainly relate. He could remember all the times that he had confided in Lily the events of Spinner's End. There would be the awkward silences that Amity mentioned when Lily, who came from a family with loving, doting parents, didn't know how to respond. She would ask, sometimes, how things were getting on at his house, but sometimes he traitorously wondered if that was to help her own conscience rather than help him work through his problems. Those were the thoughts he shoved brutally into a dark closet in the back of his mind, to be taken out and re-examined precisely two weeks after hell froze over.

"So tell me more about this new Potions Master… that is the right title, right?" Amity confirmed.

"Yes, it is. What have you heard from Potter?" Severus raised his glass and took a sip.

"That he roughly resembles the walrus from the Walrus and the Carpenter."

He snorted into the glass and found himself smothering one of the truest laughs he had given in nearly a decade in his napkin as he wiped water off his chin. Amity raised an eyebrow smugly, apparently fully aware that he was not looking his most put-together, and she was the cause.

"Something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"I've simply never heard a more apt description of Horace Slughorn."

They passed the rest of the main course discussing the different professors teaching at Hogwarts. Amity had a student's view of them from Lorena, but Severus could provide a somewhat more personal view of them given all the years they'd spent on the same staff. Like, for example, the way that Madam Hooch had pursued a frankly terrified Remus Lupin, or the rumors of a torrid romance between Argus Filch and Irma Pince.

When they were done, Amity cleared away the dinner dishes and put them in the sink to be washed later. She ordered him into the living room and Severus went obligingly.

"After dinner coffee?" Amity called from the kitchen.

"With cream," Severus replied, peering around Amity's living room. The place was decorated with obvious nods to her Southern roots, most notably the horse bridle draped elegantly on the wall. But Severus also strongly suspected that the crocheted rag rug in front of the fireplace was handmade going by the random and sometimes clashing strips of fabric. The same went for the worn afghan folded and placed over the back of the couch.

There were two pictures on the wall, probably for the benefit of visitors since Amity certainly couldn't enjoy them. One depicted a field fenced in barbed wire where horses grazed. The second showed a shack of a farmhouse up on rocks at the top of a hill, part of the porch sagging and white curtains blowing out the window. Both were black and white and looked old.

"These pictures," Severus began as Amity entered the room carrying a tray with two plates and two cups of coffee. She set the tray carefully on the table and passed Severus a plate and cup. He took them, setting the cup on a coaster on the table by the couch and settling the plate in his lap. Amity did the same, taking a sip of her coffee and setting it down.

"What about them?" she asked as she took a bite of the pie and smiled in satisfaction.

"What are they of?" Severus continued. "The field and the house? Are they just stock photos?"

Amity smiled wryly. "Severus, that's where I grew up. That was the view off of our back porch, and that was our house."

Intrigued, Severus stood and walked over to the pictures. He didn't know enough about horses so pass any kind of judgment on that picture, so he focused on the house. It was definitely a ramshackle structure and if he had walked past it he would have assumed it was abandoned. The only hint that someone lived there were those white curtains.

"It doesn't look structurally sound," Severus said bluntly as he returned to his place on the couch. Amity snorted and took a bite of her pecan pie.

"It wasn't. Sometimes in the winter, if the wind was blowing just right, the snow would come through the walls. I'd come downstairs in the morning on fresh powder. When I got to the kitchen on those mornings, though, momma would me waiting with a quilt she'd warmed by the wood-burning stove and she'd wrap it around me. She was an angel, my mother." Amity smiled fondly, a hint of pained loss lingering around the edges.

"Did she teach you how to cook?" Severus pressed. "I find it hard to believe you simply worked it out yourself."

"Your faith in me is underwhelming," Amity deadpanned, before answering, "Yes, she did. She worked hard to help me find my way around ingredients and after a couple of burns and cuts, I managed to find my way around a kitchen. I expect that's part of why I enjoy cooking to this day."

"You're good at it," Severus complimented her. "This is a very good pie."

Amity smirked faintly. "Well, I've heard the way to a man's heart is through his stomach…"

Severus glared at her threateningly. "Woman…"

"Though I'm pretty sure it's through the third and fourth ribs," Amity finished smugly. "And don't you _'woman'_ me honey, or I'll take back your pie."

"Then behave yourself," Severus warned. Amity stared straight ahead, and she managed to smother the wicked smirk, which was why Severus jumped out of his skin when her hand crept onto his thigh and traced a quick path along his pants leg before pulling away.

"I'd much rather misbehave," she purred, and Severus moved sharply as far away from her wandering hands as he could go. She laughed and held up her hand in surrender. "Alright, I'm done. I'm blaming a sugar high for that."

Severus gave her a filthy look that was wasted considering she couldn't see it. "You're entirely too old for that excuse."

Amity's mouth dropped open and she gave an offended squeak. "You are never supposed to comment on a lady's age!"

Severus scoffed. "No one would ever mistake you for a lady."

Amity laughed at that, nodding in agreement. "Even more true considering I plan to have at least two glasses of whatever that bottle was you brought. Truthfully, I hope you leave the bottle," she admitted. "It would be fabulous if I could manage to get so schnockered I forgot the rest of Abigail's visit."

"If that's your goal, shall I fetch a glass?" Severus offered with a smirk, and she nodded thankfully.

"Bless your soul," she said fondly as he set his now-empty plate on the tray and headed for the kitchen. A quick search through the pantry found a shelf of glasses and various bottles. Severus grabbed two tumblers and the bottle and returned to the living room. He poured them each two fingers and passed Amity her glass, then settled back to watch the show.

Not even remotely prepared, Amity raised the glass to her mouth and took a sip. She immediately sputtered and cough, quickly setting the glass down at clutching her throat.

"It burns!" she gasped. "It's like fire!" She made a grab for her coffee to try and get rid of the sensation, downing a large gulp. She gave a disappointed wail. "That's hot too! Oh god, why does it feel like that?"

Severus couldn't stop it this time. As Amity's eyes streamed and she frantically fanned her mouth, her face red, he found himself laughing, really laughing, for the first time in years. The sight was simply too ridiculous, and more than that, too innocent. These were the sorts of moments that friends shared, the moments he'd never been blessed with an always craved.

Amity stopped her floundering. Her face was still red, her mouth hanging open, and tears still glimmered on the edge of her lashes. She still looked ridiculous, but she was frozen by something. Severus hastily comported himself and demanded, "What?"

"Well _hell_ ," Amity breathed, sounding absolutely fascinated. "If that's what you sound like when you laugh, I'm investing in a clown costume tomorrow."

Severus found his cheeks going red and the scowl he would normally have replied with felt slightly forced this time. "Since you clearly can't handle alcohol like an adult…" he rebuked, and Amity straightened, wiping her eyes.

"Well if someone had warned me that it's like drinking fire, maybe this wouldn't have happened," she retorted testily.

"I would think it would be obvious, with a name like firewhiskey." Severus brought his glass to his lips, slurping a little and then smacking his lips for her benefit. She rolled her eyes and sagged back against the couch cushions, one arm crossed under her breasts, the other absently turning her glass. She took another sip, this time with much less fanfare.

"It's not actually that bad. This is sippin' liquor," she said decisively, and her accent was a bit more prominent. He had noticed that some words more than others showed where she was from.

"When was the last time you downed an entire bottle of whiskey of any kind in one go?" Severus challenged. Amity blushed, the red only barely visible against her darker skin. Severus straightened up, intrigued. Changing his tone to wheedling, he decided to go with, "Amity…"

She groaned and dragged her hand over her face. "Now that is not fair!" she protested. "Alright, fine, look. It was one time, it was a bet. A couple of the Wilson boys and I had climbed the hay elevator into the loft at their place and they said they'd give me fifty bucks if I drank the half a bottle of Jim Beam they'd stolen from their dad. I did, and they had to tie me to a board with grass string and lower me out of the loft because I couldn't manage the ladder or the elevator." She snorted. "They didn't even get in trouble for stealing the whiskey because their daddy was so worried about me."

There were several questions Severus would have liked to ask about that story, but he decided to start with, "What in Merlin's name is a _hay elevator?"_ and he wasn't even remotely surprised when the only answer he got was laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

If someone had asked Severus Snape what his predominant feelings were as he sat in the Hospital Wing barely forty-eight hours after his latest bout of torture, the answer would have been annoyed and sore. Despite not being fully healed, he'd had to don his teaching robes and wade through the days of teaching dunderheads an art they'd never appreciate, only to return to the Hospital Wing whenever he wasn't teaching for Poppy Pomfrey to make sure he hadn't undone any of her hard work healing him.

Severus winced as he recalled the way that Potter had looked at him when she first saw him, the sheer horror and agonizing pity she held. She'd been frozen by the sight of him and it took Pomfrey grabbing her and telling her to stay or go to get her out of her head. He had never wanted her to see him like that, as anything other than her unflappable teacher. Certainly, her uncanny ability to say things that struck him deeply had made him break before her more than once. There was something different about being physically beaten down in front of her, however. Maybe it was just male pride, the desire to seem like her invulnerable protector, but he had never wanted Potter to see him hurt.

Severus scowled up at the ceiling of the hospital Wing. At the very least, this spared him the Great Hall's roar of noise during dinner and Horace Slughorn's babbling. He reached over to his bedside table and seized the mail he couldn't have been arsed to bother with that morning. The Daily Prophet he scanned through and then lit aflame with a surge of pleasure. Next was an issue of _Potioneer's Monthly_ which would be set aside for later. That left a single letter.

When he saw that it was on regular Muggle printer paper instead of parchment, Severus realized who it must have been from. He closed his eyes and wondered for a moment if he was healed enough to handle the ulcer that reading whatever Amity Raincrow had to say would inevitably give him. After a moment steeling himself, he unfolded the page and began to read.

 _Severus,_

 _Are you alright?_

He blinked in surprise. No flirtatious comment meant to make him angry, no snide comment to annoy him, no joke? And how in Merlin's name did she know that he was hurt? Moreover, why did she care? Was it just because he was supposed to be looking after Potter while she couldn't?

 _Severus,_

 _Are you alright? Lorena let me know that you'd been hurt and that it was pretty bad. I knew already though, or at least I knew something had happened. I woke up that night with this horrible feeling in my gut and I knew something was wrong. I thought it was Lorena at first, drafted her a dozen letters but I didn't know how to ask without sounding crazy. Then I hear it's you that's been injured…_

 _I'm telling you, I'd really love to give this Lord Voldy-britches of yours a talking to! Nothing makes me madder than someone hurting people I care about. Oh! I'm getting angry just writing this! Well, saying it… Point is that I'm sorry you've been put in a position where this is even a possibility. I wish someone else could take the hot seat… oh, but you're irreplaceable aren't you? I forgot._

 _In case it's not obvious, I expect you to come by once you're better – DO NOT strain yourself flying you sourpuss self all the way from Scotland to me – so that I know. A letter won't cut it, sorry, I require a visit, because I don't trust you not to try and downplay whatever kind of shape you're in. Or just outright lie to me. Either one. We can finish that bottle of firewhiskey you left and I'll try not to sputter like it's the first time I've ever had alcohol this time._

 _Get well soon,_

 _Amity Raincrow_

Severus slowly set down the letter on his lap and looked out the window opposite his bed, smirking. Somehow, he was both surprised and not at the contents of the letter. He knew that the mad Muggle wasn't lying about wanting to see how he was doing – she didn't lie. Amity Raincrow was almost painfully forthright and outgoing when it came to him.

He glanced back down at the page and remembered Potter making a comment a long time ago, something to the effect of wondering if Muggles were capable of divining the same way wizards were. The way she spoke, he began to wonder if Raincrow weren't capable of the same. Maybe she had a distant relative who was magical, or a Squib way back in her family tree. Who knew?

All Severus knew that was Saturday night, mostly healed and feeling far better than he had the day he'd first received her letter, he found himself standing outside the door to Amity Raincrow's apartment and knocking on the door. He stood for a moment and, as always, heard music coming from inside. Frank Sinatra, this time, unless he was much mistaken. There were footsteps and then the door opened. Amity stood there for a second and then her face split into a wide smile.

"Severus!" she greeted happily, like he'd turned up with a puppy and a million pounds for her. "You're here?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't say anything. How did you-"

"You smell like herbs and cold," Amity replied, dismissively, and seemed completely unperturbed about how uncomfortable that made Severus. There was something that seemed very intimate about her recognizing him by scent. "Come on, come in and tell me what happened, how you're feeling… All that jazz…"

Amity stepped back and gestured him inside. Severus followed her as she headed to the kitchen. Going up on her toes, she opened a cabinet to reveal a surprisingly well-stocked liquor stash. Severus found himself raising an eyebrow as she pulled out the remains of the bottle of firewhiskey he'd brought and two tumblers.

"Patron, jaegermeister, American Honey, Wild Turkey Sting, ouzo, apple wine… Green apple schnapps?" he asked with a faint quirk of his lips. Amity ducked her head and scowled.

"Ah, shut up. Tell me you don't need a little nip some nights," she challenged, and Severus couldn't fault her on that, so he took the offered glass.

"Honestly, I don't remember half of what's up there anymore…" Amity admitted, fingering bottles. She landed on one and asked, "What's this bottle say?"

"Fireball," Severus read obligingly for her, sipping his drink. She nodded absently and frowned as she picked another bottle up and handed it to him.

"And this?"

Severus stared mistrustfully at the bottle. It was green glass and looked like a wine bottle, except that it had no label on it. "It's a bottle."

Amity's face brightened. "Ah, that'll be the blackberry moonshine!" she said happily, and took the bottle back, putting it up in the cabinet again before shutting the doors. Severus narrowed his eyes.

"I was under the impression that moonshine was illegal?"

"Oh, and you've never done anything illegal," Amity replied loftily. "Besides, it's the fun kind of illegal." Her eyes sparkled as she stared over his shoulder and sipped her drink. "So, I'm guessing that if I asked what happened to you, I'd get a filthy look?" She did indeed get a vicious scowl from Severus from over the lip of his glass. She smirked. "Ooh, I think I can actually hear paint peeling."

She gestured for him to follow her and once again they adjourned to the living room and settled themselves on her couch. Severus eased himself down slowly, hoping Amity wouldn't noticed if he allowed himself to favor the lingering soreness. It was hardly there compared to the shape he'd been in when he first arrived, but it still hung on when he stood up or sat down.

Amity leaned her back against the armrest of the couch and pulled her feet up. Like she had once before, she slid her toes under his thigh and Severus flinched slightly at the feeling of cold feet before deciding it was a fight he didn't want to bother with, and it wasn't that bad. He took a sip of his firewhiskey.

"You know," Amity said, and he looked over because her tone was surprisingly thoughtful. Her head leaned against the back of the couch, her eyes focused somewhere between her knees and his lap. "When I was a kid, my ma told me stories sometimes about Merlin and Arthur, or bits she knew from Lord of the Rings. I heard about magic growing up and part of me used to dream about it, but I always thought about it as good." She shook her head and smiled self-depreciatingly. "I guess that was a little silly of me, huh? I just can't imagine why someone would have a power like that… and then want to use it to hurt someone." She flicked her wrist at him vaguely. "I just don't understand."

"Magic is neither good nor evil," Severus replied. "It depends on who is wielding it, how, and for what purpose. As I understand, Potter has a very rousing speech about how the Killing Curse used to be used by mediwitches for a human euthanasia and the spell that marked her face was used to carve memorials into stone."

"I guess part of me was still holding on to those little girl ideas of a world with magic being all happy times. Especially when I hear ridiculous things about _honking daffodils_ and the like." She snorted. "But you're people same as me."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed."

"Hm? What?"

"You do apparently have a functional brain, one that's even capable of deep thoughts," he mocked her, and Amity smiled fondly, nuzzling her head into the back of the couch a little.

"Ass," she accused. "Come on, tell me more about your world. Take my mind off imagining you and Lorena getting tortured."

He glanced at her, reminded of when Lily used to beg for information from him about what the wizarding world was like. The truth was that he'd never been to any of the places he'd described to her, even though he made out like he had. He had been going off of what he read in his mother's battered books and the few memories she'd shared with him. Those times were long ago, both of them finding an escape in one another. But Lily had found more people than just him to fill that gap for her when they reached Hogwarts while he never had. This had echoes, familiar like those long days spent in the park telling her anything and everything he could think of about magic, and foreign, because he was an adult now and he knew that the magical world wasn't the perfect place he'd painted for her, and he had experienced its sharper sides personally. Part of him wanted to continue the lie with Amity, tell her mindless things about pretty flying horses and spells that made flowers. But she already knew that his world wasn't sunshine and roses, and more than that, she could handle the reality, had even asked for it. To omit the bad would be to do her a disservice.

"What would you like to know?" he asked her slowly.

"Oh, I don't know. Anything. Tell me some of your memories from school. Hogwarts must have changed between then and now," she suggested.

He gave her a dark look. "I have no doubt that Potter has informed you that my time at school wasn't nothing short of depressing. Why would you want to hear about that?"

"There had to have been something good," Amity disagreed. "You're telling me that every moment of your seven years there were complete and utter hell?"

He was forced to admit that no, they were not. "The Library," he offered. "When parties were being thrown in the Slytherin Common Room I would flee to the Library and read the latest issues of Potioneers' Weekly for hours until I was sure they'd been broken up."

Amity frowned at him. "What, you never went to a party your whole school career?"

"I was present for a few," he retorted, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, present. So what, you hid in the corner with a book and gave everyone dirty looks for daring to engage in frivolity in your sourpuss presence?" she guessed. He narrowed his eyes but she wasn't that far off. The times he hadn't sought shelter from the pounding music and his drunken housemates turning the Common Room into a dance club had passed much the way she'd said.

"I was hardly one for drunkenly dancing on furniture," Severus huffed, recalling one particular night after Regulus Black pulled off a spectacular Snitch catch that earned them a staggering victory against Ravenclaw. The younger Black had gotten so drunk on the firewhiskey shots people kept passing him that he'd climbed up on one of the tables in the Common Room and proceeded to start dancing while everyone else howled with laughter. He hadn't lived it down for days after wards.

"What, you mean that you've never danced on a table before?" Amity asked sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes.

"No, though I'm sure you would pay good money to see such a thing."

"I'd pay good money to see anything," Amity quipped. Severus closed his eyes and groaned, realizing what he'd said and who he'd said it too. Amity laughed at him, relaxing deeper into the couch and taking another sip of her drink.

"I would have figured your girlfriend would have made you come to at least one party with her though," she mused, looking up at the ceiling. "Girls like that sort of thing even if you insist on being a buzzkill every hour of the day."

There was no good way to reply to that without being made fun of, so Severus remained silent. Amity blinked and looked in his direction.

"Why aren't you coming up with some snappy comeback disparaging the female half of the race in general?" she asked in confusion. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I was trying to think of a way to do so that wouldn't result in being kicked," he replied pointedly, reaching down and prodding her ankle rest just next to his thigh to make his point. Amity was still suspicious though.

"Severus…" She paused and frowned. "Severus whatever-your-middle-name-is Snape, did you not ever have a girlfriend in school?"

"My focus was on my studies," he sniffed, though he was fully aware of how weak it was an excuse. Amity's brows were creeping higher and higher towards her hairline.

"But you _have_ dated, correct?" she demanded, now sitting up and draping her arms over her knees, looking deeply intent on following this line of questioning. Internally, Severus was violently cursing and wishing he could think of a way to get her on a different topic, but he doubted it was possible on a subject like this, particularly one that could be deeply embarrassing to him. Amity Raincrow seemed to exist purely to try to mock and humiliate him.

"No," he bit out, because remaining silent was tantamount to an answer anyway. "And I'll thank you to change the subject."

"You're not welcome," was the swift reply. "I mean come on, even I've dated once or twice. Granted it never lasted longer than a month or two either times but still. Why the hell not?" she demanded.

"It is difficult to find a potential romantic partner when one is spying on a tyrant, teaching classes, and trying not to be caught and arrested, tortured, or killed," he grit out, his grip on his glass tightening.

"Don't you try and guilt me into letting this go," she warned him, and brandished her arm. "Well _hell_ , this explains why you get all twitchy when I flirt with you! You really aren't used to it."

"Woman, you will change the topic now, or I will leave and not come back!" Severus warned her, and he meant it. Of all the topics he really didn't want to cover with Raincrow, his lack of romantic history was somewhere near the top of the list. Why would he want her to have all of that ammunition?

"Again with the 'woman!'" Amity lamented. "Fine, fine, but for your own good, I will continue to flirt with you. Have to build up your tolerance." She winked at him coquettishly.

"Joy," was his disparaging reply. After a pause, he added, "Tobias?"

"Hm?"

"My middle name. Tobias."

"Oh. Leigh."

"Hm."


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of a soft tapping at the glass made Amity open the window. There was a flutter of feathers and a faint hoot as the owl swooped inside and landed on the back of the rocking chair in the corner. She walked over to it and reached out slowly for the animal. It nipped her finger sharply and Amity hissed and cursed, yanking it back.

"From Severus, then," she grunted, sticking her wounded finger into her mouth and sucking on it. Lorena's owl Artemisia always stood perfectly still and allowed Amity to remove the letter without any kind of fuss. Severus's owl, however, tended to get angry if she reached anywhere but for the letter at his feet.

Amity managed to get the thing off the bird and swatted at it, sending it flying out. She shut the window behind it and drew the curtains as she fingered the letter in her hand, smiling faintly. Much as she teased him, his voice really did do something to her, and Amity enjoyed his letters as much for the updates on what was happening with Lorena as for getting to listen to him. Still smiling, she slit the wax seal and the letter came to life, pulling itself from her hand.

 _Raincrow,_

 _You have asked for regular updates on Potter, and thus I am fulfilling my duties. She is of course ridiculously busy and accomplishing more than any person has a right to, usually at the expense of her own health. Currently she is brewing potions for the Order, learning mediwizardry, practicing at Legilimency, Occlumency, and Animagus transformation, as well as teaching underground classes for a select group of Slytherins. All while attending classes and still maintaining passing marks._

 _It is inhuman._

 _You also had the audacity to ask for updates on myself, woman, and I have no idea why you expected I would comply, nevertheless offer up anything you would find interesting. I am not one to exchange banal chat about the weather and you would have no interest if I did. The only reason I am even offering an update is because I was writing you anyway and I'd like to forestall an angry inquiries on your part._

 _I am alive. There is your update._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Severus Snape_

 _Potions Master._

Amity rolled her sightless eyes as she heard the paper shred itself in front of her and headed for the closet and the vacuum. Howlers had this unfortunate habit of self-destructing, not that she really had much use for keeping letters to reread later. Still, it would be nice if they could simply vanish into thin air instead of ending up on her carpet in a pile of cinders.

The fact was that she was nearly as desperate for updates on Severus as she was for news of Lorena. The man was the most fascinating individual she'd ever met, though he seemed determined to downplay himself at any given opportunity. And if there wasn't an opportunity, he'd make one. He took self-loathing to an art and it managed to break one of the part of her heart that was still soft. Lorena had written her before about how much it drove her crazy as well so she knew it wasn't just her that found his self-depreciating annoying in the extreme.

As much as he accused her of flirting and teasing him just for her own amusement there was some genuine emotion behind it. Amity was way too old for foolish little girl dreams of the fabled Gothic hero and she was too well aware of how dark and bleak Severus's future was to believe she would ever have much of a place in it. But she wasn't lying when she said that his voice did some very delicious things to her. That was superficial though. On a deeper level, she'd never respected a man the way she did him even after only a few meetings. She'd never been so impressed, and that's why she pursued him.

If, by some miracle, he decided he wanted to give her a shot, well. She wouldn't turn him down.

For now it meant the world that she was allowed to have contact with someone else from Lorena's world. When she had first hiredthe girl she had been thinking of herself as a child. If someone had given her a chance, offered her the money that came with a job, she ould have taken it in a heartbeat and bought herselfa bus ticket somewhere else, anywhere else. She'd thought that maybe if she could help someone in the way she'd wished to be helped when she was young it would somehow make the past better.

It was a stupid thought and it didn't work. What it did do was introduce her to a world she'd never dreamed could exist. Certainly she'd thought about magic and dragons and potions in the way many children did, as wonderful props for the imagination, but the reality of it was far more startling, far more alarming. How could an entire society of powerful people be so hidden away? How could a war be raging with no one in this world any the wiser? How could things like what Lorena told her exist?

The dementor, the cold she'd felt, still haunted her.

Yet despite the fear there was also wonder for all the things she'd dreamed of were real and Lorena provided the connection between Amity and that world. She was fascinated by every little detail, yet in a way it was still like the stories she'd read as a child. She knew it was real, yes, but she couldn't ever experience in the way that Lorena or Severus did. Every scrap of knowledge was at once illuminating and deeply painful.

She knew that Lorena saw her a mentor and she was happy to fill the role for her. She adored she girl and was keen to offer advice wherever she could. But Lorena wasn't the only one who needed a sounding board. From seemingly out of nowhere had crawled Severus Snape and then he'd plopped himself down in the middle of her life and suddenly she found herself entranced as she'd never been before, because by all rights he should be the stuff of myth and legend as much as dragons and spells. Yet somehow every bit of it was real. The men who went undercover, who fought and died and spied and dueled were supposed to have gone away as the nature of the world changed, and yet there he was. An impossibility.

How could she not be intrigued?


	6. Chapter 6

_Severus,_

 _I'd say thank you for your update on yourself, but just getting the letter told me as much as the contents did. If you weren't in another country I would whack you for that. I_ know _you're alive, you sourpuss, but I was hoping for something a little more than that. Are you eating, sleeping? Are you healing well? Have you been hurt again? Seriously, a paper cut, any more than 'I'm alive' would be very welcome._

 _Your snarky self doesn't seem to get it so I'll explain – I'm on the outside in all of this, just sitting on the sidelines and hoping that I get letters from you and Lorena because then I know what's going on, I know if your alive, I know if the world ended when I wasn't looking… metaphorically speaking. You two are my only source of information so getting a snippy little 'I'm alive' doesn't exactly help me._

 _Pull that again and I don't care, I'll somehow figure out how to get to your castle and it will be for the express purpose of kicking your ass, no matter what shape it's in._

 _You sound like you're surprised that Lorena's doing so much. I though you knew by now that she's amazing? I'd never tell her because her head's big enough already, but she impresses me every day. When she first started here she picked up facts about the inventory so fast and she was so good with the customers. Of course after a few days I realized she's not quite as friendly as she pretended to be, but still. From the beginning I've been impressed by her and her ability to pick things up and talk circles around people._

 _Unfortunately, it sounds like a lot of people don't trust her for those exact same reasons. Maybe this is a stupid question to you, but are those characteristics that Slytherins are supposed to have? Lorena's tried to explain the house system to me before and what each house is supposed to be like but I honestly don't understand why there's so much hatred to you snakes. I can think of reasons to hate every house equally. Does it all go back to having a founder that was a magical racist? If so, that's a damn long time to hold a grudge and you may seriously need to address the issue. You may be familiar with a small conflict from American history known as the Civil War and it sounds like that's basically what you're dealing with at that school._

 _Give Lorena my best if you see her… but no, you won't do that, because that would show her than we've been writing and you can't have that. Mm, am I your dirty little secret? That's sexy, I'm not going to lie._

 _In all seriousness though, do please let me know how_ you're _doing, not just Lorena. I like hearing from you and you explain things well when I don't understand what you're talking about. Must come from years of being a teacher, eh?_

 _Amity_

 _P.S. You'll note that it's Amity writing you, not woman, you dick._

As Severus set down his most recent letter from the Muggle woman he found that somewhere along the line his mouth had quirked up in the corner in amusement and he hastily schooled his expression even though he was alone in his quarters, a tumbler of firewhiskey his only companion. He took a sip and was reminded of nights drinking on Amity's couch and cold toes being warmed under his thigh.

Her letter was the same as it was to talk to her in person, her voice coming through strongly. It was a mix of humor and seriousness. He knew now that the teasing side of her personality was true, but put-on to an extent, much in the same way his own unpleasantness was. They were defense mechanisms, as she'd said. It was as if she forgot that she was supposed to be defending herself and then remembered, and thus came the flow of profanity and sassy little asides.

The fact that she left her guard down enough even in a letter to be genuine with him, even in brief spurts, was surprising. Even more surprising was the first paragraph and how clearly her concern showed. She'd never been one to hide her feeling and he could read concern in every word as clearly as if the feeling had been etched in the paper alongside the ink.

It boggled his mind.

Even when he was a child his mother had rarely asked if he had slept well or if he had eaten in her letters. And yet here was this woman who was still very nearly a stranger and yet she genuinely cared about his health. He had never been gifted with the ability to make friends easily and yet somehow he seemed to have managed to earn her affections – though whether those were romantic or not he could never quite tell if she was joking or not – in a startlingly short amount of time.

In his life there had been very little concern and tenderness. A childhood of fists and harsh words and curling up in the corner of his room to make himself as small and safe and isolated as possible. Teenaged years pining after a girl who had never loved him in the way he'd loved her, dodging spells and insults until he could do it as easily as breathing, trying desperately to become something worthy of Lily, someone better than the people he'd grown up around. An adulthood of suspicion, hatred, continued abuse at the hands of both men he'd served and a startling lack of freedom. Eternally walking on a knife edge, paranoid that this would be the day he slipped and said the wrong thing, made the wrong move, and it all ended in pain and blood.

All of this made him wary of the softness and caring that Amity Raincrow offered and he scowled as he observed her first paragraph again. His eyes scrolled down the page and he could relate to her feeling of being on the outside. He was Death Eater and Order member and yet not a part of either. It was a painful thing to be behind a glass pane watching as those around him went about their lives, yet not being a part of it. Yet it was something he'd grown used to, accepted to the point that he hardly even noticed anymore. She hadn't had the time to acclimate.

Alone in his rooms late at night was never the time to partake in self introspection. It inevitably led to fits of depression and soul-crushing guilt, along with a healthy dose of anger all topped in a decent amount of alcohol. His hand automatically reached for the bottle still sitting on the side table next to him to refill his glass but he paused, glancing back at the latter on his lap.

He strongly suspected that borderline alcoholism and sitting alone in the dark were the sorts of reports Amity wanted to hear. Granted lying was always an option. He was very good at lying after all these years. Sometimes it seemed like he did little else. And yet lying to her after she'd expressed what seemed to be genuine concern about him felt… wrong. Many of the things he'd done in his life fell under that category, things he'd at first chosen to do and then been forced to do. In this instance, he had the choice to say the right thing.

The firewhiskey was banished back to the cabinet with a flick of his wand. In nearly the same motion, he summoned a quill, ink, and parchment from his desk and began to scrawl out his reply to the letter.

 _Raincrow,_

 _You may think you wish to know how I am, but I can say with utmost confidence that you don't. Sympathy is easy to feign when the person is country away. Suffice it to say that I slept the night before and am eating regular meals. I have no paper cuts. Is that sufficient, or do you wish to continue playing my mother?_

He decided not to mention that the sleep had only lasted about four hours before he found himself as awake as if someone had just set off a firework next to his face. He'd spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling in a kind of trance and waiting for it to be late enough that he could get up. His meals were picked at as if he were some silly Hufflepuff trying to watch her waist. Food simply… didn't appeal to him. He consumed the stuff to keep himself alive and relatively healthy, but it meant nothing more than that.

 _You couldn't get into Hogwarts even if you wanted to. The wards keep Muggles out._

He lifted his quill with a smirk after adding that line before scowling. Lorena had impressed the woman from the beginning, as she had him, and this wasn't a surprise. Maturity was not something often seen or recognized in teenagers, she had it in spades aside from a flair for the melodramatic that she couldn't quite seem to squash. He didn't mind it though. Her hysterics had provided him amusement over the year. He jotted a few notes about her progress and her performance in his class before turning to the trickier subject of houses.

 _Certainly the ill-will towards Slytherin got its start with our illustrious and misguided founder, but since then it's become self-perpetuating. Students grow up hearing the house they've been assigned to equated to superiority, racism, disdain. They take on those qualities to try and fit in with their peers and become what is expected. There is a term for it in Muggle psychology I believe, though the exact wording escapes me at the moment. It's not entirely surprising given that teenagers are particularly mercurial to begin with._

 _However, since then hatred of Slytherins has lost and all purpose. The old arguments are hauled out when the reason for the hatred is challenged, and yet now it's not much more than habit for many people to insult and degrade and believe themselves morally superior to my house. Many students turn to the Dark Arts as self-defense because the only requirement is meaning the spells, wishing to cause pain to another. When one feels wronged, it's an easy thing to feel. Self-perpetuating, as I said. I myself did the same when I was_

Severus paused and frowned. No, that was quite a bit more information than she needed. He erased the last line of the paragraph and continued on. The idea of her being his 'dirty little secret' was not worth a response. Of far more interest was her renewed sentiments that she would like to hear from him on how he was doing. Did she repeat herself because she truly meant it? Or to make him believe she did?

In the end, he ignored the last bits and signed the letter as he usually did.

 _Sincerely,_

 _Severus Snape_

 _Potions Master_

The next morning he sent the letter off with the morning mail and as he sat between Minerva and Horace at the head table during breakfast he was reminded of Amity's words as he stared at his pitiful plate of lightly-buttered toast. His nose wrinkled in distaste and he was suddenly a bit tired of his bland diet. He reached for a jar of grape jelly and added that to his toast and spooned scrambled eggs to the plate.

"Hungry this morning, Severus?" Minerva commented absently, and he became aware of what he was doing with a flinch. He was changing his eating habits because of that damnable woman, because he knew that if she were sitting in the Deputy Headmistress's seat and could see what passed for his breakfast she would have rolled her eyes, made some kind of disparaging comment about it, and then done her level best to cram as much food down his throat as humanly possible. She seemed to have a small obsession with making sure anyone who came into her house was well-fed and he doubted that the urge was location specific.

"No," he spat, looking down at his plate. Minerva raised an eyebrow at his shortness and turned to speak with Filius with a huff. Yet, despite his anger at himself, he found himself dipping his fork into the eggs and putting them in his mouth. And, to his great surprise, they actually tasted rather good. He wanted more. Perhaps this was the result of inadvertently starving himself of flavor for several weeks?

* * *

 **I'm starting to realize that I've kind of screwed myself in neglecting Severity. This story is now so far behind where we are in the main story that it's going to take several chapters to catch us up. Thankfully, I already had several chapters for this story planned, if not actually typed up. So for the next week, until the next time To Be a Slytherin is updated, I'm going to try and post a chapter of Severity everyday. Keep in mind, these chapters tend to be shorter than the main story because they're more snapshots and not a whole lot of relevance to the plot, but I hope you'll still enjoy.**


	7. Chapter 7

Somehow, dinners at Amity's had becoming an ongoing part of Severus's life ever since the first time. Always on the weekends, when he wasn't expected at dinner in the Great Hall anyway. In that way, his isolated personality actually worked in his favor and freed up his time. He Apparated right outside Raincrow's door and knocked. Usually he was greeted almost immediately with a call to come in, but this time there was nothing. A second knock got the same result. Frowning, he leaned closer to the door and listened. There was no music playing inside, which was a certain sign that Amity wasn't home.

She knew he was coming, and Severus was confident that she wasn't rude enough to try and worm her way out of their dinner by simply not showing up. So either something had happened or…

Severus turned and took one step in the direction of the stairs down into the store before remembering that he was wearing robes and a frock coat. Not exactly Muggle street attire. Wrinkling his nose, he raised his wand and his robes turned into a black overcoat, white shirt unchanged, frock becoming a sharp black vest. Satisfied he looked Muggle while still being intimidating, he descended the stairs and emerged out into the store.

Severus looked around and it was easy to find Amity. The lights in the back were off and the floor was the only place still illuminated. A bored teenager stood there with a waspish old lady with blue hair lingering at her side. Amity stood with them, looking stressed, her dark hair a messy bun atop her head.

Amity's voice was struggling for reasonability. "Ma'am, it really is okay to sew cotton with this kind of thread, it won't pucker-"

"Yes it will!" snapped the old lady. "Honestly, don't you know anything?"

Amity scowled. "Now sewing in particular isn't my area of expertise, that's more in knitting, but I do know-"

"I don't know how you can even do that, the state you're in," the old woman huffed. The girl with her, probably a granddaughter, had reddened ears and was steadfastly staring at the two spools of thread in her hands. Clearly, she was embarrassed.

Severus watched as Amity's sightless eyes blazed with rage and her voice shook with the effort of suppressing it as she replied with admirable poise, "Practically I know how these things work and I-"

"Well practically won't help my little angel learn to sew a proper dress, will it?" huffed the old woman.

"Grandmother, it's okay, the store's already supposed to have closed, we can just go somewhere else tomorrow," the granddaughter tried weakly, clearly desperate to escape the awkward situation.

"So?" the old woman demanded. "That doesn't matter! We're paying customers, she'll stay open as long as we need her to!"

Severus noted the old woman had no other items on her to buy. A glance at the prices on the thread made him completely willing to step forwards. He was not going to let this old harpy sit there and degrade Raincrow like that, customer or not, when Amity was potentially getting all of three quid out of it.

"As it happens, Miss Raincrow has plans for the evening," he interrupted, stepping out of the shadowy back of the store and into the light, striding over. The granddaughter looked around and seemed even more embarrassed to know someone else had witnessed the scene. Amity whipped around so fast that her foot tangled in her skirt and she staggered. He easily caught her shoulder and steadied her, leaving his hand there in a gesture of solidarity as he stared down at the octogenarian.

"Excuse me!" the woman spluttered. "I don't know who you think you are, butting into a conversation like this-"

"I think that I am Miss Raincrow's dinner partner for the evening, who is being kept waiting because you can't make your mind up about something simple and apparently feel the need to badger a blind woman. Neither is permissible to me. You will take you companion, and you will both leave."

The teen set down the thread and grabbed her grandmother's hand, tugging it hopefully. "Come on, grandmother, he's right, let's just go!"

"I have never been spoken to like this in my life!" the old woman shrieked, her face going a shade of pink that clashed with her blue hair. "You are in customer service, woman, and this is how you serve your customers?" She scowled when Amity remained quiet, staring over the woman's head. "Excuse me?" she demanded, and began to snap her fingers in Amity's face. "Ecuse me, you don't get to just ignore me!"

The teen gave a low, horrified moan and Severus's hand snapped out, catching the woman's wrist and flinging it from Amity's face. With the full force of his withering stare, drawing himself up to his not inconsiderable height, he stared down at the old bat and snarled, "Get out, or you will be removed.'

The old woman seemed to realize that staying would not be in her best interest, but she still huffed and stuck her nose in the air as she headed for the door. The teen looked over her shoulder and mouthed, "Sorry." Severus nodded. He didn't blame the girl. She, clearly, had manners. Age was not always a guarantee of class.

Amity proved that as the door slammed behind them and she proceeded to let fly a torrent of curse words and raise both middle fingers in the direction of the door. Severus scoffed and shook his head.

"She's gone, Raincrow, that does nothing.'

"Make me feel a hell of a lot better," Amity snarled, lowering her hands and storming back down the aisle, heading for the light switch. "I _told_ Cheryl to lock the door behind her when she left but apparently she didn't, because I'm about to lock up and those two come storming in. They say they _just need thread, won't take a second_ – hah! Bitch," she muttered, and her hand floundered on the wall for the light switch in the general area. Severus shook his head and drew his wand, flicking it. The lights all went out, the shades were drawn, and the front door locked.

In the dim light coming from the stairway, Severus guided himself over to her as she mounted the stars.

"Does that happen often?" he asked curiously as he followed her up. "Frankly I've wondered as to how you run a craft store when you can't actually do any of them."

"Theory is good enough to offer advice to most people," Amity grunted. "And I learned how to do a lot of this from my mother when I was young. I'd sit by her while she sewed or knit or crocheted or quilted… very crafty, my mother. "

Amity let him into her apartment and he shut the door behind her, changing his clothes back into what they were with a flicker of his wand. When he turned back around, Amity was leaning back against the wall with her knees slightly bent, eyes closed. For the first time since he'd met her, he was reminded that she was the same age as her. She'd always seemed so much younger, with more life pulsing inside of her than he had ever managed even in his own youth.

"Are you alright?" he asked her uncertainly, not entirely confident that he had the right to ask the question or that it would be welcome. Quite clearly she wasn't alright, but he didn't quite know how to phrase it any other way. He could hardly ask specifically what part of that old bat's ranting had pricked her.

"I'm tired, Severus," Amity said wearily, reaching up and rubbing her temples. She sighed. "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

That was actually quite a good answer, because Severus was deeply familiar with an inability to sleep. "You can't fall asleep or you can't sleep well?" he asked.

Amity's lips quirked up. "The first one. It's like I can't turn my mind off when I lay down. The diagnosis, Dr. Snape?"

He smirked, pleased that exhaustion at least hadn't stolen her tongue from her. "There's something on your mind. Something keeping you awake."

Amity snorted nad shook her head. "Well hell, I could have told you that."

"And what's keeping you awake."

"You." He froze in place, eyeing her with all the caution of a man approaching a hippogriff. Amity didn't seem to notice, her smile faltering and flagging once more as she clarified, "You and Lorena. I worry about the two of you, and Harry as well. The one's I only know by name and have never met. I worry that one of you will die or be injured and no one will know to tell me. You'll just… be gone."

She shook her head and pressed a hand to her cheek. "I'm bringing down the mood, aren't I? Sorry. I'll get started on dinner.'

She pushed herself off the wall and Severus followed her as she walked into the kitchen. Seemingly against his will, his hand reached out and caught her shoulder, redirecting her and guiding her gently but firmly into a seat by the table. Amity's expression was confused as she commented,

"It's gonna be real hard to use the oven from here."

Severus rolled his eyes. If he didn't know that Potter had been born with her ridiculous insistence upon doing everything he would wonder if she'd picked it up form this woman. "Sit and rest. I will make dinner," he said.

He found himself wanting to take care of her. No one had ever needed or wanted his tending in the way she did. Probably wise, because taking care of others was not something he routinely pulled from his quiver or tricks. But making a meal, sending a bully flying from the shop, these were things he could do to protect her, to say a silent thank you for worrying about him… if it wasn't all some sort of elaborate ploy.

Resisting the urge to fall down that rabbit hole of thought again, he returned his attention to Amity. Her mouth had fallen open and she'd directed her face so that she looked up at him. She seemed oddly moved as she murmured, "You're going to cook for me?"

"Yes, if you'll tell me what you've the ingredients to make," Severus replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Stop looking at me like that, woman. It's a meal, not a marriage proposal."

Amity smirked, but there was a softness, a fondness to it that was new. "Shame, why can't it be both? That knight in shining armor act you pulled would have been terribly romantic. Thank you for that, by the way."

"You're welcome," Severus replied, and her smirk began to grow. She opened her mouth and before she could say whatever nonsense she was about to come out with he added, "You're also ridiculous."

"Ooh, I'm winning you over, don't even try and deny it!" Amity insisted as he turned and began to open her refrigerator and pantry.

"Have you spoken to someone about these delusions?"

"Bite me," Amity replied swiftly. "I had planned for chili tonight. The soup pot's under the counter on the right, and the ingredients are on the second shelf in the fridge."

Severus nodded and began to dig around. In not time the smell of cooking meat began to fill the kitchen along with beans and spice. He felt rather like he was in his lab back at the school and yet not. There were similarities in the act of cooking to potions that his hands did automatically, and yet the feel of the experience was difference. Brewing gave him a feeling of control that he had very rarely had in his life. Cooking, particularly for another person, was much more intimate.

Severus glanced over and saw that Amity had turned her chair around unbeknownst to him, the back to him. She sat in it sidesaddle, her arms folded across the top, her cheek resting on her crossed wrists. Her eyes were lightly closed, hair spilling down over her shoulder in a sheet. The pose was somewhat childish, and yet there was an easy looseness to it that was somehow incredibly attractive, particularly as she took a deep breath in and smiled at him lazily.

"That smells heavenly," she breathed, and stood up from her chair. Severus turned firmly back to his work on the stove and let her dig around in the cabinets behind him. The clinking of glasses and the popping of a cork told him what she was up to, and yet he still found himself surprised when a long-fingered hand offered him a glass of red wine. He turned and saw Amity smiling at him expectantly, her own glass pressed to her lips. He took the glass and sipped before setting it aside and turning back to his stirring. Amity moved next to him, hopping up to sit on the counter next to him. One leg crossed over the other and she leaned forwards, resting her arms on her thighs, wine glass cupped in one hand. Her head tilted tiredly and she commented, "I can't even remember the last time someone cooked for me. Really cooked for me, you know, not like in a restaurant." She smiled softly. "Thank you Severus. Honestly, I really didn't want to cook tonight."

He cleared his throat. What was to him a protective measure seemed to mean something incredibly important to her, something he couldn't fully fathom. Taking a sip of his wine to distract him before busying himself with tipping the cooked hamburger meat into the pot with beans and spices and salsa waiting, he replied, "Yes, well, it concerns me enough letting you cook when you're alert, having you do it while tired was unacceptable."

Amity's face hardened in a flash and she demanded, "Because I'm blind?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "No, because I'm worried you'll poison me."

"Ooh!" Amity's tone was annoyed but she was laughing as she tossed her head. One hand stretched out for him and he offered his arm to help guide her, whatever she was intending. Her hand caught his wrist and she squeezed gently. "You like my cooking and you know it, or you wouldn't come eat it as often as you do."

"Perhaps I simply desire a change of scenery," he countered. She smirked.

"Scenery doesn't really do much for me, honestly."

This time he really did roll his eyes, scoffing as he continued to stir, lifting out a little. One hand cupped under the spoon to prevent it from dripping as he offered it to her. "Open," he ordered, and Amity obediently opened her mouth. Severus slipped the spoon inside and she swallowed thoughtfully. As he lowered the spoon they both seemed to realize what they'd just done. He turned with rather more force than necessary towards the pot again and Amity lifted her glass to her lips.

For a moment all was silence and Severus wondered how it always happened, what sort of magic was in this place and this woman that the moment he stepped inside of here he felt freer than he did anywhere else. Was it that this place was protected by wards of his own design? No, so was Spinner's End, and he had never in his life felt secure there. Was it that Amity couldn't see him, and he no longer had to school his features into whatever was expected of him? He could do that or not, it made no difference to her.

 _Amity helps_ , Potter had said once, and he was starting to realize how true it was.

"it's not very spicy," Amity commented thoughtfully. Severus winced.

"Yes, I… can't handle spicy foods with the potions I must take." He didn't need to specify that the potions were for his internal injuries. "You can, of course, add some more flavor to your own if you like but I-"

"No, it's alright," Amity reassured him. Her hand moved again, fingers trailing along his shoulder and down his bicep lightly in what was probably supposed to be a soothing gesture. "I don't particularly like spicy things myself. It's perfect."

She smiled, and some part of him knew that it wasn't wards or being seen or any sort of easily-explainable thing like that. Something in Amity Raincrow's very being made him relax, and if that wasn't a thought to be brutally shoved into a dark corner of his mind he didn't know what was.


	8. Chapter 8

Amity sagged over the front counter, elbows holding her up, a sandwich pressed to her lips, and sighed wearily. Good help really was hard to find during the school year with Lorena gone. Cheryl, her most recent attempt at finding a decent assistant, was quite frankly an airhead. On top of forgetting to lock up more than once since that disastrous night an old bat came flying in, she had called in sick that morning all of ten minutes before she was due to arrive. It would have been more convincing if she hadn't been giggling every few seconds and making shushing sounds to someone.

As a result, Amity was left to work the shop alone that day and that meant that if she wanted to have lunch she had to sneak it in while there were no customers. Thankfully, the store was never terribly busy around lunch time and she was entirely alone. Even in the run up to Christmas, the types of gifts that could be made with the things she sold would have needed to be started sooner. She was

Or at least she thought she was, until the cracking sound echoed through the store that she was becoming increasingly familiar with. Her head snapped up and turned in the direction of the approaching footsteps.

"Severus?" she called out warily as the footsteps approached the counter.

"Indeed," replied a low, smooth voice and she relaxed, face stretching into a smile.

"Well this is a surprise. I thought you weren't coming by today?"

"I wasn't," he replied, and something in the tightness of his voice made her smile drop into a frown. Amity tilted her head and not for the first time wished she could see his face. Lorena had told her she wasn't missing much, that he wasn't a terribly emotive man, but still…

"What's wrong?" she asked bluntly, and her heart began to pick up the pace in her chest as fear knotted in her stomach. "Is Lorena okay? Are you?"

"That is… debatable," he replied, and there was still something in his voice that made her nervous. Amity nodded to herself and tossed her sandwich in the trashcan.

"Go upstairs and sit down," she ordered. "I'll be up in just a second. Just let me lock up."

"You needn't-"

"I know."

"Will you let me-"

"No."

"Woman, I-"

"Amity!" she sing-songed back to him, and pointed firmly in the general direction of the stairs. She heard Severus let out a quiet snarl, but she ignored him as she moved for her computer and opened the speech-to-text software. She listened for the sound of him mounting the stairs and the door at the top opening before smiling in satisfaction, printing out a sheet of paper and snatching a bit of tape. The sign she hung in the door read simply, _Raincrow Crafts has closed early today due to family emergency. Thank you for your understanding. Merry Christmas!_

She locked the door and hit the lights, climbing the stairs carefully before reaching her door and stepping inside. Amity shut the door and locked it behind her before moving to the couch. Severus said nothing, but she could hear the soft sound of his breathing and she knew he was there. Amity sat down and kicked off her flats, tucking her legs up under her. She turned to face him and said simply, "Okay, go on."

There was the sound of fabric rustling and she got the impression he was shaking his head. "I shouldn't have come here-" He started to rise, she felt his weight leaving the couch. Amity made a sound of protest and caught his sleeve in a wild swipe, yanking him back down. With a huff she shifted her position and threw her legs across his lap, pinning him down as wellas she was able.

"No you don't!" she huffed at him. "Now something's got you rattled Severus, and that's not a good sign. Tell me, what's happened?"

"Nothing, yet," he replied bitterly. "And if all goes according to plan, nothing will."

Amity frowned. That was annoyingly vague. "So… you're worried things won't go according to plan?" she ventured, and he made an irritated noise in the back of his throat.

"Things rarely do involving Lorena Potter."

Amity's eyes widened in surprise and she sat forwards and little further. 'What's going on with her? Is she okay?"

"For the time being, but if she keeps up like this then I don't know!" Severus sounded deeply frustrated, more upset than she'd ever seen him, and it worried her. Scared her, really.

"Tell me," Amity pleaded, reaching out for his arm, but he shrugged her off like a horse would swish its tail at a fly and she withdrew her arm, hurt. "Severus, please, don't leave me in the dark here!" she begged, now starting to get annoyed herself. "You can't just… just show up here and mumble about her not being okay and refuse to say more!"

"Yes, I can!" he snarled back at her. "I shouldn't even have come here, it's not as if I can explain the situation to you. You are a Muggle, you do not understand our world. You don't belong in it."

That… hurt. More than expected, actually. She had tried and tried to learn about this world that Lorena and Severus were part of, and she heard it in Lorena's voice sometimes, the annoyance that came with having to explain what was, to her, a basic thing. But Amity gobbled it all up, absorbing the information with a sponge, and tried desperately to understand a world she could never be a part of so that she could support the people she cared for who were. To hear her efforts casually brushed aside like that pissed her off beyond words, and she said something she probably shouldn't.

"And I thought your wards wouldn't allow Death Eaters into my home," she spat out bitterly, and she felt as Severus stiffened under her legs. He fairly shook with restrained rage and she felt a surge of pride that she'd actually managed to get to him.

"Don't talk about things you can't possibly comprehend," Severus breathed, and Amity sneered.

"Why, because I'm just a _stupid Muggle_ I can't _possibly_ comprehend your world? News flash, honey, wizards didn't corner the market on… on extremists and prejudice and racism and civil war and child soldiers. We Muggles have handled those things ourselves, without glorified twigs."

"Do you understand?" he challenged her, and rose. Amity's legs were jerked around and her feet hit the floor. She could feel him looming over her, knew he was there and enraged, even though she couldn't see him. She'd never been afraid of Severus before, never truly equated him with the horror stories she'd heard of Death Eaters, and yet now she understood how people could fear this man. His rage was a tangible thing flitting about the room with them.

"Can you _possibly_ understand what it's like to have a young girl who you have tried for _six years_ to protect from as much of the world's cruelty as you can offer to kill to protect you? Can you understand the sense of _failure_ you feel when you realize that she is entirely capable of it? The _horror_ of knowing that before the next few years are out she will have killed? To have her offer to _kill_ a man who has arranged his death with you already, just to spare you the pain? Pain you've already felt, because you are a _murderer,_ because you _don't deserve_ any sort of affection or protection and yet _always_ she offers it. _To her own detriment_ , she offers!"

Amity pressed tightly into the back of the couch. She was reminded of the Dementor that had swooped into the store, the complete helplessness and confusion she had felt. When Lorena explained the reality to her she had felt as though she were drowning in a world she didn't know. She felt that way at this moment, because for all the facts she knew about the wizarding world, Severus was right, she didn't know what it was like to live in that world right now, the fear that went along with it. She couldn't comprehend the danger that Lorena was in, that Severus was in, or the emotions that came along with the things they had to do and the duties they took on themselves. Amity had long since acknowledged that Severus Snape was a man of infinite complexity, and that most of his self-image was in tatters, but she hadn't realized how deep the cracks in his foundation ran, just how much he loathed himself.

Her heart broke for him.

"You poor man," Amity breathed as Severus stood over her and panted with the force of his rage - rage and guilt, she realized, because the idea of Lorena offering to kill a man to protect him must kill him. "You… You're right, I can't understand that," she admitted, through it pricked her pride to do so. "But what I do understand," she continued, voice gaining strength, "is that Lorena adores you and she's not the sort of person to gloss over the flaws in a person to spare their feelings. She knows what you are and she still finds reason to believe in you, as do I." Amity pushed herself to her feet and felt Severus take a quick step back to prevent them from colliding as she rose. "I've never met anyone like you, Severus Snape. And I _can_ understand Lorena wanting to help you. Whether or not you see it, you are a great man."

Amity had never been one for speechifying or making grand proclamations and she felt intensely foolish as she stood before him and said these things, but she held her ground, looking determinedly into what she hoped was his face. For a long time in her youth she had wondered at what sort of horrible beast she must be, for her own father to treat her the way he did. She had been convinced that she was the lowest form of scum. She, however, had escaped that image. Severus had drowned himself in it.

His hands came up and clasped tightly around her biceps. Amity's eyes widened in surprise. He'd never grabbed her like that. He knew better than to. She felt his breath on her face as he hissed,

"You think I am some sort of hero? You think that my life is some sort of romantic adventure in spying? You think I am a _great man_?" He said the words so that they dripped in scorn. "Allow me to enlighten you of who exactly you've been pinning these ideas to. _Legilimens!"_

Amity's mouth dropped open in confusion. For a moment there was a feeling like something being dug into her mind. She knew that spell, knew what it was meant to do. Lorena had explained it to her when she mentioned taking lessons in defending against it from the man now using it on her. Things from her past – the smell of fresh-cut hay, the feeling of the rusty metal of the hay elevator under her fingers, the smooth coats of the barn cats, her mother's lullabies – danced in her mind for a moment before she felt the uncomfortable sensation of being dragged from her body and into something unfamiliar and terrifying.

Color bloomed, not before her eyes, but in her mind, colors she'd never seen and only ever head described. They took shape and she could see, see through Severus's eyes his own memories of what he had done in the name of Lord Voldemort, both as a spy and not.

 _Severus Snape. She could see him, the shape of him, tall and broad-shouldered, clad all in black and looming out of the darkness over a man covered in blood, writhing on the floor before him, pleading and screaming. Yet his face was impassive before the man's pain. His wand was outstretched in front of him and Amity watched as the man screamed louder and curled into a ball against the pain, shaking uncontrollably. The smell of urine hit her as he lost control of his bowels._

 _Then it was Severus who lay on the ground, witching and writhing, face a mask of impossible pain, and looming over him was a man who was not a man. Had Amity still been in control of her own body she would have opened her mouth and screamed at her first sight of Lord Voldemort. Pale, a face like a snake's, and red eyes that glittered with what was unmistakably amusement as Severus's jaw stretched wide and he gave a stomach-turning shriek of agony…_

 _Amity didn't know why he would show her this, realized he wasn't entirely in control of exactly where his mind strayed, and the image was washed away. Severus stood, his face concealed by a mask in the shape of a skull, yet she knew him. Three more people in similar masks stood there with him. Fire streamed from all three wands though the house before them was already nearly engulfed. From inside Amity could hear screams of agony, yet she couldn't help but be stunned by the beauty of the fire as Severus's own guilt washed over her._

 _The next switch was merely a flash of Severus, soot-stained and pale, shaking as he emptied the contents of his stomach into a toilet._

 _The images began to lose coherency. Severus bowing before that beast and giving information that he knew would lead to the death of at least one person to wash away some suspicion and wondering absently just what sort of tattered, blackened thing his soul was._

 _Another scene of him torturing a person, this time a young woman whose only crime was to be born to Muggle parents. She had red hair. Another woman was superimposed over her, with green eyes. Amity thought for a moment it was Lorena and then realized she was too old. This could only be Lorena Potter, and the feelings that came with that image took her breath away._

 _That same girl, so young, glowing in the sun before his eyes, and the feeling of awe she inspired._

 _Walking through the hallways of what could only be Hogwarts, and then books being swatted out of his hands by a boy with dark, messy hair and glasses._

 _Hanging upside down in front of the whole school, embarrassed beyond belief, shrieking vitriol at the one who'd stepped up to protect him, kneeling before that same girl later and crying, begging, pleading, only to look up and see that her face was unmoved._

"Enough!"

Amity didn't know how long she'd been trapped in the flow of Severus's memories, tossed around like a bit of debris on the waves, but she knew that she would never be able to look at him in the same way. Because for all he'd tried to impress upon her that he was beyond salvation, that he was as much a monster as Voldemort, all she had been able to think the entire time was how _glorious_ it was to see through his eyes and how much she treasured those images even if they were horrifying. No matter what she'd seen, she'd also felt his guilt, shame, self-hatred that had afflicted him with every spell he cast against another. All of that only made her more confident that she was correct in her assumptions – he was a great man.

Severus threw her from him and Amity staggered, falling back against the couch. Her mouth was open, her fingers digging deeply into the cushions. Something wet dripped onto her thigh and she realized with a jolt that she was crying, tears rushing down her cheeks. She hadn't cried in… she couldn't remember the last time. Over a decade.

"I am…" Severus's voice was hoarse. She didn't know if it was lingering feelings from the memories, but she swore she could hear the guilt in his words. "I am so sorry…"

He took a step away from her, towards the door, and Amity knew with sudden certainty that if she let him go know, then he would not come back, not ever. She lunged upright, floundered for him, and caught him by the shoulder. She buried herself into his chest, clutching him tightly, not caring if she squeezed too tight.

"You have no idea…" She was babbling, had no idea what to say. "I've never seen… and you let me! The things you've had to do, I'm so sorry…. I shouldn't have pushed… hate me if you want... I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… But I wasn't wrong, you are a great man… It was so beautiful… and so terrible… God, how do you…?"

She felt it and was shocked by it as his hands came up and pressed into her back over her shoulder bags. He was holding her back and it was something, even though he was almost painfully stiff under her grip. He guided her back and sat her on the couch, sitting himself down next to her. She felt his jaw move, felt his mouth open and close as he fought to find something to say.

"I should not have inflicted that on you," he said quietly. "My memories are my own burden, not yours. If you want I will remove them. I should…"

"No!" Amity ripped herself from him, pressed back against the opposite arm of the couch and raised her hands before herself defensively, not that it would actually do any good if he tried to use magic on her. "Please don't, I… do you understand what you've done?"

"I showed you my nightmares," he replied bitterly. "And I made them yours as well."

"Exactly," Amity insisted, because he seemed to have missed a few details of her bumbling rant around the crying. "You _showed me._ Severus, I saw it." She spoke with passion. "I saw you. It was beautiful, the most beautiful… Please don't take that form me, don't tell me you hate me that much?"

He seemed entirely lost. "Hate you? You would… you would _want_ those memories?"

"God yes," she found herself moaning. "I felt your pain and now I know, no matter what you try and convince me, that I am right. You are a great man. And I know what you look like."

Amity felt strangely like a child opening its eyes for the first time as she leaned forwards and reached out. Her fingers found his cheek, traced the skin there, found lines that she knew would be there, and she could see it in her mind, could trace his fingers and know the colors and shadows that went along with them. The side of one finger brushed his nose and she couldn't resist the urge to try and diffuse the tension.

"Your nose really is rather large…"

Severus's hand snapped up and caught her wrist. "You are a ridiculous woman," he replied, and the words were familiar but she could almost hear an awe in them like the awe he'd felt for the little redheaded girl. She'd stunned him, humbled him, and she grieved for just how little appreciation this man had seen in his life.

"So I've been told," Amity replied, and pulled her hand back. He let her go wordlessly. She licked her lips and added, "If you decide to do that, though, would you please warn me first?"

Severus scoffed. "I don't know what made me do it in the first place…"

"You're tired, you're angry, you're in pain," Amity rattled off. "All of those will make a person do crazy things. I don't… don't hate you for it, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear," he replied hollowly. "I don't know how, but you really don't do you?"

Amity shrugged, offered a sheepish smile. "I've experienced real evil in this world, honey, and you ain't even close. You still give a damn. All those things they've made you do, you still cared. That's how I know."

Something in what she'd said must have struck him, because she heard him suck in a breath. Then a small, hard 'hah' of laughter. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

Amity smiled. "Now I hate to breakdown and run, but whatever you did has me exhausted and honestly I think I'm going to pass out on you sometime soon. If you don't want to witness the glory that is me post-nap, you might want to flee now."

Though she doubted that he was actually smiling, the amusement in his voice was unmistakable. "You are entirely too-"

"Amazing? Fabulous? Spectacular?" Amity cut him off, and to her surprise, Severus replied,

"Something like that."


	9. Chapter 9

Severus sat in his desk in his office, a pile of essays waited to be graded with a fresh bottle of red ink standing at the ready, and yet he didn't feel nearly as enthused about the prospect of ripping apart grammar and facts.

Every time he closed his eyes, Amity Raincrow's face lingered there. Large, sightless eyes mere inches from his face, tears streaming from the corners, mouth open but nothing coming out. In any other situation he would have mocked her for such an expression but now all it did was fill him with a mixture of guilt, confusion, and awe.

He could not for the life of him figure out what had driven to do such a thing. She was right when she'd said that he was angry and tired and in pain, though how she'd known he chalked up to her uncanny ability to know things even when she shouldn't. He had also been slightly buzzed, having spent the majority of the evening after leaving Slughorn's party in a bottle and only partly sobered up.

Severus winced. He really did need to get the drinking under control, it was starting to spiral out of hand…

When he'd done it he had meant to fully and completely deny any and all goodness that Raincrow saw in him, that Potter saw there, to prove once and for all that he didn't deserve the trust and faith and fondness they kept heaping upon them. And some of the memories she had seen had horrified her, he knew. He had been able to watch it in her eyes between schooling his thoughts and guiding her away from memories he didn't want her to things that would make his point. Yet through all of it there had been such a desperate longing on her features.

That was when he had realized what he had done. Amity Raincrow was born blind, she had never seen colors or faces or shapes. But by magically pulling her consciousness into his, he had completely bypassed whatever was wrong with her eyes and projected his own memories into her head. She saw his memories as he did, visuals included. He had, however briefly and suddenly, given her sight for a few moments. The experience had clearly meant more to her than he could ever possibly comprehend.

He had shoved her away and yet, as she always did, she had come bouncing right back, flinging herself into him with tears in her eyes, babbling woods that he could hardly catch over the ringing in his ears and the full weight of what his momentary loss of control had wrought. Somehow he kept ending up with her and Potter in his arms, and they had this alarming tendency to always be crying when it happened.

He didn't know the first thing about calming and soothing, yet he'd tried his best, used what he'd observed students doing for each other. He held her and sat her down and made his apologies, offered to make it as if it had never happened, and what had she done? Recoiled, refused, even hinted at allowing him to do the same again in the future.

He had intended for the act to make her realize that her faith in him was misplaced and it had the opposite affect. He supposed that wasn't surprising, given that he had given a blind woman sight for a few seconds, that her gratefulness might wash away any sense of horror. But that wasn't it either. She had felt what he felt during those moments and her opinion of him still hadn't changed. She had smiled and teased him as she always did and the fact that she have forgiven him, so completely and so easily, struck something deep within him.

It was hard not to once again draw parallels between Raincrow and Lily. Only this time, Lily unavoidably came up wanting, the first time she had ever lost such a comparison. He had hurled an epithet at her in the heat of the moment and she had turned him aside seemingly with ease, standing over him as coldly as any of his masters had. He had done something that was quite a bit worse to Raincrow, a sort of mental rape, and yet she had brushed it aside and forgiven him. She had done what Lily had never been able to and forgiven him his great flaw, his temper in the face of embarrassment and failure. Lily, who had known him longer, should have understood that about him by that point in their acquaintanceship. And yet Amity, who had known him only a few months, seemed to not only understand but accept that in him.

Severus knew that he was still welcome in Raincrow's home when he had been turned away from Lily's and that startled and disturbed him in the extreme. How could she forgive? How could she push aside his slights? How could she still wish to see him? How was that possible? He could try and blame a similar childhood for her understanding, but no, they were adults now. He could try and say she simply had a forgiving nature, but that was an outright lie. She could hold a grudge as easily as he, and yet she hadn't.

A great man, she had called him, with such conviction in her voice that it was as if she were stating an established fact. The sky was blue, he was a great man, the ocean was salty. Such a belief would earn her incredulous looks from nearly all of his acquaintance and many would try to ship her off to a mental word for thinking it, but he was deeply touched that she did. He had defended her to that old woman, taken care of the dinner that night, and yet compared to what she had given him with that forgiveness, it seemed like such a paltry thanks.

How did you thank a person for doing the impossible?

()()()()()()(

Amity hadn't lied when she told Severus that she thought she needed a nap. The emotional rollercoaster, the memories he'd pushed into her mind, they had worn her out like nothing else and she felt like she hadn't a good night's sleep in weeks. The sign had been left hanging in the door of the store and she had no intentions of opening up for the rest of the day. She couldn't quite drag herself to bed yet though.

Baths were a luxury she never had as a child. While most people thought it was a thing of the past, of third world countries, when she was a child her baths had been taken in a metal tub with water hauled from a spring and heated by the stove. Stretching out in a tub had been a luxury, but once she earned some money, got her own place, bubble baths had become her sanctuary, her favorite way to unwind and relax, so that was what she did.

Amity made her way mechanically to her room first, stripping off her clothes and tossing them into the hamper. Nude, she made her way to the bathroom and her hands began to mechanically go through the motions of drawing a bath, testing the water and adjusting the knobs, fetching shampoo, conditioner, soap. As she bath filled she upended sweet pea-scented soap under the rushing water and smiled as the bubbles began to froth. Her hand on the edge of the tub provided the guide for how high tot let the water get, and once it licked at her fingers she turned off the faucet and climbed inside, settling into water that was just this side of scalding.

Amity quickly went about the business of cleaning herself before leaning her head back against the rim of the tub, wadding up her washcloth to cradle her neck. She sighed and closed her eyes, though it made no difference. Of maybe it did, because once her eyes were closed the things she'd seen danced on the backs of her eyelids and she smiled.

Amity felt guilty for being pleased with images of people being tortured and having their houses burned down around them, but she couldn't help it. Fire, the flickering quality of the light, the colors that danced in it, the shadows and surges of it, was a beauty that she couldn't have possibly done justice in her imagination.

She now knew too why Lorena fear that Lord Flighty Death fellow, because he truly was a monster. She was reminded of those stories she grew up with, where the good guys were always easily identifiable by their suits of armor and the bad guys were barely human. Perhaps it was fitting that the bad guys looked that way in a world of magical impossibilities. The idea of a person being willing to distort themselves physically like that in the pursuit of power made her shudder despite the heat of the water. Amity took a moment to dab the warm washcloth across her forehead and neck before tucking it back into place.

The thing that filled her with delight more than most was that she knew what Severus Snape looked like. From Lorena she'd received a rundown, had teased him with a categorical listing of his features, but nothing compared to the reality. He wasn't lying, he was not an attractive man, at least not in the traditional sense. But his eyes were dark, his voice tempting, and maybe she was a little simple, but that was enough for her to forgive a hell of a lot of 'flaws' that weren't really flaws.

She knew logically she should be angry about what he did but she just… wasn't. Maybe because of what she'd seen, but more than likely it was because it hadn't been done maliciously. Oh, he'd meant to scare her away, that was for sure, but it hadn't been to hurt her. If he intended to hurt anyone it was himself, really. He had tried his damnedest to impress upon her that he wasn't not the person she wanted to get involved with but the instant regret she'd heard in his voice had proved to her the exact opposite. She didn't hate him for trying to make her hate him, maybe just because of her inherent need to never make things easy for him.

Severus Snape should be in prison, that she knew with absolute certainty. She also knew that he had earned his spot with the things she had done. But it came down to the one or the many. Some had suffered so that hopefully, ultimately, many more could live happy and free lives and not have to worry that they would be killed simply for the crime of existing. It was a cruel truth and one many would be reluctant to accept, but Amity was capable. Even if it had cost the life of another she would never regret her own father's death. The world was better off without him in it.

Amity sighed and rose from the water, which was now going cool. As the tub drained behind her she dried herself off and picked up a bottle of lotion, rubbing it all across her skin and breathing in the soothing scent of mint and raspberry. Her hair she didn't bother to dry completely, just bound up in a banana clip. A quick walk to her room and she replaced her towel with a silky nightgown. Physically she had no idea what she looked like, but the feel of the fabric on her skin, particularly after a soothing bath, had always made her feel incredibly luxuriant.

Amity laid down on the pillow and closed her eyes, and soon all of her concerns were washed away in sleep. 


	10. Chapter 10

He was bleeding, an every now and then his arm would twitch, but beyond that he was still functional. These were wounds he could patch up himself, no reason to worry Poppy so late in the evening that it was almost morning. But if he returned to the school then that would mean meeting with Dumbledore and he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Not while he was still grimacing in pain and had blood running down his side. Not while his mind was still rattled from the Dark Lord's prodding. His most private, secret thoughts were still secure, of that he was certain, and that was enough for now.

The thought occurred to him that Raincrow's apartment was safe and without the taint of either Dumbledore or the Death Eaters, and before he'd even considered it he was turning on the spot. He appeared in her living room, fully expecting to be alone. If he could just stand there for a moment, heal himself, and leave, he would be able to pull himself together. His side screamed in pain from the sensation of Apparition and he grit his teeth further before his feet met the floor of Raincrow's living room.

The place wasn't dark, as he'd expected, and nor was he alone. The television in the corner, which he'd never seen used, was turned on and quietly playing some late-night movie. The music surged as he absently watched the couple on screen kiss. He looked around and Raincrow herself was sprawled on the couch, completely asleep.

He tilted his head and observed her curiously. Obviously she had no idea that there was anyone in her apartment, he had hardly called again, and yet he was still intrigued by the idea of her being asleep. He'd seen her tired and subdued, but even then she'd never stopped fidgeting or talking. She was always in a state of motion, so seeing her still and quiet was.. surprising.

The light from the television cast shadows across her features. She was mostly buried under the afghan that was usually tossed over the back of the couch. Her face was half-buried in the pillow, one hand tucked under it. Her other hand was curled across her stomach. Her eyes were closed, hiding the cloudy blue color of them. Her features were relaxed, calm.

Severus cursed himself for coming here and started to turn, to vanish from her place like he'd never been there. But Raincrow made a soft sound and shifted on the couch, rolling onto her back. The afghan slid off of her torso, staying tangled around her legs as the rest piled on the floor. Her vest had ridden up and exposed a slash of russet skin. His stomach clenched and after the last time he'd been here he felt an overwhelming urge to pay back her forgiveness.

Severus found himself moving forward and crouched beside the couch. He picked up the blanket and settled it back across her, dragging it up to her chin. As he concerned himself with covering her, he was completely oblivious to the faint smile beginning to curl the corners of her mouth.

"So it is you, Severus."

He flinched in surprise and his hands whipped away from her. With a lazy, sleepy smile on her face Amity sat up, her hair a mess of ink around her face. She arched her back and raised her arms over her head, barely smothering a yawn. "Hmm, what time is it?"

A glance at the clock and he answered. "Ten past three."

Amity smirked, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "And _what_ are you doing in a lady's home this late, Severus?" she purred. He rolled his eyes. She had not even been awake for a full minute and already she was starting in with that.

"Checking the wards," he replied shortly, which had become his go-to excuse when he had no logical reason for being there.

"So late?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"I had just left a meeting and didn't want to return to the school yet, and I was reminded that I hadn't checked them in a while."

Amity hummed and nodded. She clearly didn't believe him as she shifted around, tugging her legs up and sweeping back the covers. Severus found himself smirking faintly. She was wearing socks to keep her feet warm, but they were knee-high and patterned with various horses. One had sagged down to the middle of her calf. They looked ridiculous and yet completely in place on her.

"And what happened at this meeting that has you coming here?" Amity asked, reaching to take his hand and pull him down to sit with her. He stepped back swiftly.

"I shouldn't."

She frowned. "Why? Do I have bad breath?" She smiled crookedly. Severus shook his head and requested a moment, directing his wand to the cut at his side. A quick series of muttered spells fixed the slash, repaired his clothes, and removed the blood. There was nothing he could do for the twitching in his arm as he sat himself down, now without worrying about staining her furniture.

"What were those?" Amity asked, leaning forward. She twisted around so that she was sitting along the length of the couch. As per usual she slid her feet under his thigh and he looked down in surprise as she pitched the end of her blanket over his lap. Amity reclined back against the arm of the couch, seemingly satisfied with her tending now, and looked at him expectantly.

He considered lying to her, saying he was simply removing some mud or something he'd tracked in, but again that seemed… wrong. So he sighed and admitted, "Healing spell. Vanishing the blood."

Amity sat bolt upright, eyes blowing wide, and real fear and concern flooded her face as she demanded, "You're hurt? Where? How bad? Do I need to… I'll fetch the first aid kit." She foundered, starting to rise. Severus placed a hand on her upraised knee to keep her in place.

"Don't bother, I've fixed it."

Amity looked suspicious, still half-poised to fetch a medical kit. "Really? All of it? What happened?"

"A slash to my side and mild magical torture," he replied calmly. "Nothing critical." And to him, it truly wasn't. As if to counter him, though, his arm gave a twitch and a throb and it surprised him enough that he let out a hiss of pain as his fingers contracted on Amity's knee. He started to yank it back, fully aware he'd just given himself away, but Amity reached out and picked his hand up, an expression of sorrow and commiseration on her face as she balanced his fingers on her palm and laid her other hand over the back.

"I'm sorry that you can experience that and call it 'nothing critical,'" she murmured, trailing her fingers over his hands. He resisted the urge to pull them back. His own blood was still under his fingernails, and he found it strangely fitting as much as the thought of her touching his hands repulsed him. For her sake, though, not his. His hands were scarred from years of working with knives and heat and it seemed appropriate that they had received more battering than other parts of him for all the suffering they'd dealt out.

Amity's fingers stroked along the back of his, sliding slightly under the edge of his sleeve to his wrist. He held perfectly, painfully still, frozen as he waited to see what she would do. For a moment she seemed content to simply play with her new toy, tracing the ridges of scars and following the shape of his fingers. Then she shifted her grip and lifted his hand up. He realized what she intended to do when she leaned down, but found himself powerless to stop her as she kissed the back of his hand, turned her face up to him, and smiled gently. She took his hand in hers more fully and squeezed comfortingly.

"I've never said how much it means to me that you're keeping me safe," she commented, and she had no idea that those words were exactly what he needed to hear, or maybe she did, he could never tell. Just as he was thinking that his hands might soil her she reminded him that they had accomplished good things as well. His hands cast the spells that kept her safe from Death Eaters. "You didn't do it for me, you did it for her, but still. I appreciate it."

"I was nothing."

"Don't go trivializing the good things like you blow the bad ones out of proportion," Amity scolded slightly.

Severus shook his head. This was too much, entirely too much. The atmosphere was too much, the dim half-light from the television, Amity sleep-rumpled and he trying his damnedest to work out just what he was supposed to be saying, to be doing, why he'd even come in the first place. But he was glad he had, because for all the confusion and annoyance that occurred around Amity, he did feel better. Not physically, perhaps, but he felt… lighter.

"I should go," he said quickly. "I must report to the headmaster and you should rest."

"So should you," Amity retorted, a lecherous smirk stretching across her face. "My bed's fairly large. Care to join?" she asked archly, foot sliding up to run over the top of his thigh. Severus quickly caught it, holding it in place before it could venture any higher.

"You are a ridiculous woman." What sounded originally like an epithet was now something like a praise and it made Amity tilt her head back and laugh.

"I know. Go on Severus, make our report and then get some rest," she urged, gently tugging her foot from him grip. He rose, the afghan falling away from him. Amity followed his movements and began haphazardly folding the blanket. She couldn't see to make sure that the edges lined up and it came out very crooked as she tossed it over the back of the couch. Severus drew his wand and pointed it at the blanket, casting a nonverbal spell. It quickly refolded itself before settling perfectly across the back of the couch.

"Not that I mind seeing you," Amity commented, rising up on her toes and stretching her arms over her head, arching her back. He wondered if she knew what that did for her figure and decided that she definitely did. "But this popping up randomly thing you're getting in the habit of is a little startling. Maybe owl ahead if you're going to show up before our next dinner?" She winked at him cheekily and he got the impression that she didn't mind at all his random appearances, she was just giving him a hard time.

"I will endeavor to be a bit more respectful of your schedule in the future," he replied drily.

"See that you are." Amity nodded haughtily. "I have to time you around my myriad other gentleman callers, you see."

He scoffed. "I'm sure."


	11. Chapter 11

Severus was shaking as he reached his quarters, and for once it wasn't due to exposure to the Cruciatus. The door slammed behind him soundly and he immediately raised his wand.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

He hadn't been wrong about what he'd seen in Dumbledore's office. The doe that had been his companion for as long as he'd been able to cast this spell was not nearly as clear or as crisp as she had always been. Patronuses were, by definition, wispy, but this was different. The edges of her seemed to shift and blur between features. Some of the silvery wisps steaming off seemed to make the shape of a swishing tail for a moment, barely visible in the half-light.

"No," he breathed, and sagged against the wall, staring at the doe in front of him. She stood calmly on the floor, waiting to be told what to do with nothing to defend him from. But even as he watched her right front hoof dissipated completely before reforming. "Lily… no…"

He knew that great emotional upheaval could cause Patronuses to change. The gossip in the Order about Tonks and her affections for the fleabag, the shift they caused her Patronus, were proof enough. Yet his Patronus was more than some random animal. He knew precisely why his Patronus was a doe, clung to the person who had caused it with a desperation that now shocked him as he felt his knees give under him. Severus slid down the door and hit the ground hard.

How was this possible? Nothing had changed, there were no great emotions to be found in his life that hadn't already been there before. So what could have caused it, this last trace of Lily Evans – _Evans, not Potter_ – that was still his to hold, to leave him? Was he being punished? Was this the result of all the sins he had committed, built over time, finally made manifest? He knew that he was the only one among the Dark Lord's followers that could cast the spell, and the way they were all steeped in Dark magic made the cause of that easy to deduce. So had he finally crossed some sort of unseen threshold, where he'd done more bad than good?

Severus ended the spell and pulled from the depths of his memory something that had always warmed him, even over two decades later. Himself and Lily, sitting by the side of that pond among the trees on a blanket from her home. He lounged on it, breathing in the smell of cotton and roses – of Lily – as he told her about Hogwarts. She had stared at him with so much awe, so much hope, so much longing, and he had convinced himself that those feelings were for him, not the school. It had made him feel important, wanted, for the first time in his young life.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Severus cast again, but before the words even left his lips he knew it wouldn't work. The details of the memory were slightly blurry before him. Had it been spring or summer? Were the little wild violets that populated that place blooming yet or not? Lily, what color had she been wearing? Her hair, was it up or down? Once upon a time he could have plotted the exact path of freckles across her nose and yet now…

The patronus was no different. It flickered, faded, and returned in different parts. She calmly paced towards them and he swore her hoof changed from its cloven form to something solid for a second as she bowed her head and nosed his knee. He recoiled. His patronus had never been playful with him before. Lily's doe was always elegant and lovely and ethereal. With a jerk of his wand the doe vanished again.

Desperate now he summoned up a memory of something else, determined to figure out what or who had caused this shift in him, a shift he hadn't even noticed but was apparently quite literally altering who he was. The most obvious choice was Potter, and he summoned to the forefront of his mind a memory of the girl. Nothing special, she was just standing in her lab, bent over a cauldron. Bathed in steam she had looked up at him when he stepped inside and beamed, like she was beyond delighted to see him. The memory continued on with her babbling about some improvement or another she'd made to the potion she was working on but he held the image of her smiling at him, eyes glowing, and cast a third time.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

The doe came but after a moment he noticed that she seemed even weaker than she had before. The shifting and fading seemed to have picked up pace and become more dramatic. The lower half of a back leg vanished like it had been blown apart by a strong wind and then reformed a second later. Severus grit his teeth. Something to do with Potter then, and that gave him a horrible, swooping sense of realization in his stomach. There was only one thing that could be the source of this change in him.

Lying to himself had never been something he partook in. It was a great way to put himself in danger, but now he had to. For the sake of his sanity, the sake of his mission, he had to. All of this, every moment of torture he'd endured, every act of violence he'd committed to gain information that would save others later had been done in her name, in Lily's name. If he no longer held her tightly in his heart then he didn't know if he could force himself to attend the next meeting, submit to the torture again, stare into those twinkling blue eyes during a report and _pray_ that what he'd suffered for would be of use to someone.

He picked himself up from the ground and banished the doe from him, suddenly horrified by it as if it were an Inferi reaching for him. Severus staggered for the door. There was a sense of fleeing inside of him, as if by leaving the castle where he'd had this realization behind it would take him away from the reality of the situation. He left the castle, left the grounds. Severus was halfway to Hogsmeade before it occurred to him that he had nowhere to go, but on the heels of that thought came the acknowledgement that _yes he did_ and that was exactly where he both needed to be and feared to go.

Severus wondered when the next time he arrived at Amity's without being in a state of crisis would ever come as he turned and stepped into nothingness. At the very least it was still a reasonable hour as he appeared in her living room and looked around. The room itself struck him like a punch in the gut. The decorations, the furnishings, they were so different from the austere rooms he kept in the castle, not a trace of anything magical to be found. Amity had nothing tying her to their world except for himself and Potter and all they had done was bring her worry and danger. How dare they do such a thing to her? This loss of Lily suddenly felt bitterly fair. He had brought suffering on a woman who didn't deserve it and in turn she had taken a piece of his identity and set it beyond his reach no matter how he stretched.

" _Black is the color of my true love's hair. His lips are like a rose so fair. He has the sweetest face and the gentlest hands. I love the ground on which he stands."_

A soft, lilting voice was playing from the radio in the corner and Amity's voice echoed it from the kitchen. He was only half surprised when her voice pitched louder and she called,

"You know, I specifically requested that you called before you appeared randomly the next time."

Severus sagged and every part of him wanted to flee back to the school, and yet he found himself drawn into the kitchen. Amity stood there in her pajamas, a pair of shorts and a vest. She turned on her toes to face him and smiled, cocking her head. She gestured to the bowl in front of her which held ice cream drowning in caramel sauce and sprinkles.

"I would have made you a sundae of your own." She winked at him. "It would do you good to get a little sweetness in you."

It occurred to him that he was close to averaging one surprise visit a month and anyone else would have probably become short with him about it by now. But Amity merely picked up her treat, dug a second spoon from the cutlery drawer, and started for the living room.

"Come on," she trilled, and crooked her finger at him in a gesture that was seductively inviting. She didn't so much as blink or give him a hard look for infringing on her home, her hospitality. In spite of everything their world threatened her with she still welcomed him into her safe little harbor without thought and he as grateful beyond words for that.

"So, do you still want to murder that little Hufflepuff that can't spell to save his life?" Amity asked casually as she seated herself on the sofa. He sat down next to her and wasn't even remotely surprised when she pressed herself against his thighs. A napkin spread over their thighs and she set the bowl down. Amity dug her spoon in and offered his to him. She popped a bit of ice cream in her mouth and hummed happily. It was so painfully normal, something he'd never in his life experience, not even with Lily, and he knew precisely who had interrupted his patronus.

He couldn't even be mad at her for it," he mused, trying to resist the urge to lean into the human warmth pressed against his side as he dipped his spoon into the ice cream and took a bite. It was almost painfully sweet, and yet he wouldn't change the moment for anything. These were Raincrow's gifts to him, they always had been, normalcy and acceptance. She would never know how much they meant to him.

"If I hadn't attended school with his parents I would wonder if one of them was actually a troll," Severus commented, and Amity giggled. Her form shook with her mirth next to him and there was something oddly pleasant about the way her smiling lips shaped themselves around her spoon as she took another bite.

"Not everyone can be magical Einstein," she teased, her shoulder nudging his, and she might not be able to see but that did nothing to diminish the warmth in her eyes as she pressed just a little bit closer to him.


	12. Chapter 12

For once, their meeting was just that, a meeting. Scheduled beforehand with a plan for the evening's progression and all sorts of forewarning for both of them. Severus arrived at Amity's door with a bottle of elf-made wine and a feeling that suddenly their dinners had become unfamiliar. He was not panicking over anything in particular at the moment and Amity was not near exhaustion by any means, going by the enthusiastically loud sounds of Stravinsky's Firebird.

"Come in!" Amity called after he'd knocked, and he let himself inside. Immediately the smell of cooking hit him and he could hear sizzling under the music. Taking a moment to lower the volume to an acceptable level for conversation, he took off his cloak and progressed into the kitchen to greet her.

He found Amity standing over the stove with one hand on her hip and the other holding a wooden spoon. In front of her were two pots. One was a bubbling red sauce and the other held pasta. The oven was also going, and he thought he detected a whiff of garlic on the air. The ingredients for a salad were waiting on the counter.

"Something's missing!" Amity greeted him, and lifted her hand from her hip to beckon him over. Severus set down the bottle of wine on the counter top and approached. With one hand cupped sort of under it, Amity lifted the spoon from the sauce and turned to his general direction. Severus took her hand and guided the spoon to his mouth, tasting. "What is it missing?" Amity demanded.

"I think perhaps a bit of oregano?" he offered, and Amity beamed.

"Excellent idea, Potions Master," she purred, and dipped the spoon back into the sauce before moving to a spice rack. She ran her fingers over the bottles and he saw her counting to herself before she picked up a bottle labeled oregano. Amity added the herb, stirred a bit, and then sampled a bit herself. She nodded approvingly before moving the spoon for him to taste as well. Severus took her hand once more and gave his approval.

"Good!" amity said in satisfaction. "I've been standing here for several minutes playing with and trying to get it fixed. Where would I have been if you hadn't showed up?"

"With an alarming amount of spaghetti for one person," Severus replied drily. "Would you like me to prepare the salad?"

"If you don't mind." Amity nodded approvingly. Severus pulled a head of lettuce towards himself along with the cutting board and knife and got to work. For a moment the only sound in the kitchen was the chopping knife and the bubbling pasta, Amity humming along to the music. Severus found himself feeling oddly content in the domesticity of the scene. Making dinner, not just something that would keep him alive for the day, with another person at his side was a surprisingly relaxing experience. He glanced sideways and observed the absent smile on Amity's face and knew that she was enjoying herself as well.

As if she'd read his thoughts, Amity suddenly spoke up and said, "I enjoy cooking with you. Food always tastes better when you've had some help with it."

Severus found himself thinking that for all the skill the Hogwarts house elves had he had never enjoyed a meal more than the ones he'd spent in Amity's company. "I agree."

Amity grinned at him mischievously and shifted, nudging her hip with his. "One of these days I'm going to get you to admit you like me, Severus Snape," she teased, and he smirked.

"You are tolerable, if nothing else."

"Ooh!" Amity pressed a hand to her chest and pouted, batting her eyes. "Hurt my feelings!"

The rest of dinner was prepared and as Amity moved everything to the table, Severus fetched wine glasses from the cupboard, noting as he did that he was now able to move confidently in Amity's kitchen and find nearly anything he needed. It spoke volumes to hoe often he'd been there.

"What'd you bring this evening?" Amity asked as she lingered by the table.

"Sit down," Severus ordered, and Amity blinked but obliged, settling herself in her chair and picking up her napkin, draping it across her lap. Severus set his glass down by his plate and picked up Amity's hand, pressed her glass into her palm. She smiled slightly and sipped and he watched expectantly. Amity smacked her lips and hummed pleasantly.

"What is that?" she asked, intrigued. "Wine of some kind?"

"Elf-made wine," Severus supplied as he too sat down at the table. With a faint smirk he noted that once again the forks were inverted of the way they should be and he fixed them with barely a thought, finding the slip oddly endearing in a way. "It was given to me by Minerva on my birthday last year."

Amity perked up in her seat and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Severus paused, realizing she must have heard something in his voice that clued her in.

"Severus," she asked slowly, dangerously. "Is today your birthday?"

He sighed. He hadn't intended to tell her. As far as Dumbledore knew he was shirking the usual Hogwarts staff celebration he was normally forced into on account of a Death Eater meeting. The Death Eaters believed he had an Order meeting. The reality was that a quiet – as quiet as could possibly be achieved – evening with Raincrow trumped most every celebration he'd ever attended.

"By the lack of answer I'm assuming yes," Amity said coolly. And with that she reached into her lap, plucked up her napkin, and proceeded to whack him with it across the table. Frowning heartily Severus raised his arms to defend himself as she demanded, "Stop moving and take your punishment like a man, damn it!"

"Stop this!" Severus retorted, snatching the napkin from her grasp. Amity slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, defeated. "What was that for?"

"If I'd known it was your birthday I'd have made a cake," Amity whined, and it was such a childish thing to say – because of course a birthday mandated cake – and yet so completely fitting that she would be annoyed about being denied the opportunity to bake him a birthday cake. Severus found himself laughing, really laughing, for the second time in her company. And, just as before, Amity turned her attention to him with a deeply enraptured look on her face as she listened.

"Now why're you giving me presents on your birthday?" she mumbled to herself and Severus schooled his features into his usual calm and passive expression.

"I don't make a fuss about my birthday," he informed her. "I never have. It's always made me deeply uncomfortable, being the center of attention."

"Well, still!" Amity pouted. "What's so terrible about letting me make you a cake? I don't have a gift to give you either." She looked genuinely disappointed by this fact, and Severus didn't know how to tell her that any physical object she gave him would not compare to the gift she gave by letting him be normal with her.

"You don't owe me anything," he replied. And, because he knew it would draw a blush and a comment from her, he added, "Amity."

Sure enough, her eyelids lowered and her expression turned into something like the cat that got the cream as she rested one arm across the edge of the table and tiled her head. "Fine," she relented with a sigh, but she raised her hand to point at him firmly. "But next year I'm making you a ridiculously large cake just to prove a point, you understand me Severus?"

"I shall look forward to it with bated breath," he replied drily.

"Smartass."

"Pot," he replied, and offered her napkin back to her. "Now, can I trust you enough to hand this back?"

Amity flushed slightly as she reached out. He moved his hand so that it was in her path and she picked it up, returning it to her lap.

"Let's eat before dinner gets cold," she urged as she smoothed the fabric across her thighs. Severus nodded and reached for the pasta, dipping up first some for her and then for himself. Amity smiled at the gesture and her cheeks went a little redder as she hid behind sipping her wineglass.

"When is your birthday?" Severus asked her pointedly. "Since it's apparently critical we know that of each other."

"No way," Amity retorted, shaking her head firmly. "Mine's different."

"And why, pray, is that?"

"It just is!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "You'd make fun of me, I just know it."

"And why would I do that?" he replied, not seeing a possible reason. "Were you born on a holiday of some sort?" Her silence answered the question for him and he leaned forwards, intrigued with the game.

"Christmas?"

Amity arched an eyebrow at him smoothly. "I look like baby Jesus to you, honey?"

"Admittedly not," he agreed, and took a bit of his spaghetti, considering for a moment before guessing, "Valentine's Day? I can see why you might find it embarrassing."

"Ooh, why?" Amity cooed, leaning her chin on the back of her wrist and smirking at him. "What sort of birthday gift would I get if I was?"

'You're in fine form tonight," he noted, before pressing on with some holidays that were distinctly American. "Thanksgiving? 4th of July?"

"No and no," Amity sing-songed, and she seemed entertained by the game as well, her expression expectant as she took a bite of salad. "You were warmer with Thanksgiving."

A fall holiday then, he reasoned, and there weren't a whole lot of those. Thanksgiving for the Americans and then…. Severus paused and set his fork down. He rested his hands on the edge of the table. It couldn't be, and yet it made a certain sort of sick sense that it would be true.

"Were you born on Halloween?" he asked her quietly, ad Amity nodded reluctantly.

"Go ahead, make some comment about me being a monster come to annoy you, I know you're dying to," she urged. "I won't even take a napkin to you for it this time."

This time when Severus laughed it was harsh and bitter. Because of course the day Lily left the world would be the day Amity entered it. It seemed that he could not hold them both at the same time, one would always have to give for the other. Maybe the world really was conspiring against him as he'd always suspected, because otherwise this was one hell of a coincidence.

"Severus?" Amity asked uncertainly. "Something wrong."

Severus shook his head. "No," he replied calmly. "Only… I don't know why I didn't expect it."

Amity didn't seem to believe him, but she nonetheless let the matter drop. He silently thanked her for it as they returned to their meal. For a moment they ate in quiet companionship and then Amity broke it, asking casually, "Have you ever managed to get started on that research project you were wanting to work on? What was it… something about moon phases and… fluxweed?"

Severus was surprised she'd remembered. Most people with no interest in potions wouldn't have. "No," he admitted. "Like many things I suppose I won't have time…" He hesitated. At one point he would have simply left it there. He wouldn't have time before the war ended. Before he died. And yet he couldn't bring himself to say such a thing in front of Amity, because that wasn't the sort of thing that should be brought into her peaceful sanctuary. He didn't flatter himself when he thought that knowing he fully expected to die would disturb and hurt her.

"Until after the war," he finished simply, and he found himself hoping for the first time in a long time that there would be an after the war for him.

Amity smiled at him from across the table. "All things in time," she said simply.


	13. Chapter 13

His head throbbed from the Dark Lord's browsing. It was an intensely violating feeling, having someone root around in your mind, but one that Severus was depressingly used to. The headache, he knew, wouldn't be touched by even the strongest of potions and that was nothing compared to the bone-deep tiredness that had settled over him like a blanket once he was dismissed from the celebrations of Dumbledore's death. Yet he was still too keyed-up, too shaky and adrenaline-fueled to even attempt sleep. Nothing in the world could have persuaded him to head back to Spinner's End and with his bridges at Hogwarts very effectively burned by the mass of people who had seen him fleeing with the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange his quarters there were also off-limits.

He somehow wasn't even remotely surprised when he realized what his only remaining option was, and found himself appearing in Raincrow's living room before he even really registered the intent to go there. He hit the floor and his knees buckled under him. He hit the ground with a wince, kneecaps throbbing. Then there were running footsteps and hands on his shoulders, a concerned voice in his ear.

"Severus, Severus what's wrong? Are you hurt? Talk to me, honey."

"I'm fine," he replied, although that was perhaps one of the biggest lies he'd ever told.

It was the reason he'd switched sides in the first place – to protect Lily, to protect her children. From the moment he saw Lorena Potter, her mother in miniature, he had only reaffirmed that promise to keep her from the horrors of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. From the first time he had found her in a secret passage and had her fling herself at him, desperate for comfort, seeking it from him, he had loved her as if she was his own while knowing he had no right to feel that way. From every single time she smiled at him, sniped at him, appeared by his side in the Hospital Wing as his caretaker, told him that he was not the monster he thought he was, he had only wanted more and more desperately to keep her safe, keep her happy, keep her pristine and unblemished.

And she had gone and tarnished herself.

For his filthy, unworthy, rotten carcass of a soul. He who had corrupted everything he had ever touched, she had tried to save, and so he corrupted her as well.

"To protect me," he found himself groaning. "She did it to protect me…"

"Who…? What did Lorena do, Severus? What's happened? Tell me!"

Amity's voice was in his ear, frantic and worried. He was scaring her, and what right did he have to come here and inflict his presence on her? She should hate him for this, for what Lorena had done for his sake. She should throw him out the window and-

Unnaturally pale eyes right in front of his, warm, calloused hands cupping his cheeks. A soft pressure against his forehead, her nose brushing his, breathing in time. Amity was kneeling in front of him, her expression almost desperate as she whispered,

"Okay Severus, let's get you calmed down. Just breathe with me, honey, breathe. Don't you go breaking down on my living room floor, you sourpuss."

He found himself doing as she'd requested, slowing his breathing to match her, staring deeply into her blank eyes, focusing on the skin-to-skin touch at his face, the reassuring presence so firmly intruding on his that he couldn't ignore it, couldn't wrap himself back up in self-loathing…

Amity's mouth curved up into a small smile. "There we go, you're calming down now, huh? Good man."

His hand came up against his will, clutching her wrist and keeping her hand against his cheek. He hadn't realized how cold he felt until he felt her warmth. The idea of her taking it away was intolerable. Amity let him keep a hold of her wrist, a bemused expression on her face. He closed his eyes, trying to simultaneously drink in as much of her as he could while shielding himself from the embarrassment of needing to. He kept his eyes closed as she slid her other hand down his arm, taking him by the elbow and guiding him up to his feet. She didn't ever stop touching him, her one free hand sliding up and down his arm, shoulder, throat. They staggered towards the couch and she got them both settled against the cushions. Severus breathed in deeply. The faint scent of whiskey, baked goods, and raspberries, that was how Amity's home smelled, and something about it was comforting.

He sighed deeply and released his grip on her wrist, opening his eyes. Amity lingered on his cheek for a moment but still didn't stop touching him. Much as he was chagrined for it he was glad she recognized his need for touch right now without him having to vocalize it. He never would have asked, and this would have been far worse.

Her hands sliding down to grasp his and settle their linked hands in his lap, Amity asked softly, "What's happened, Severus?"

"Dumbledore is dead," he answered, and even he was impressed by how steady he managed to make his voice. Amity's eyes widened and he heard her give out a huff.

"I suppose it wasn't natural causes, then, not with you like this?"

A strand of hair had fallen forwards into his face. It was like she knew as she reached forwards and touched his forehead, gently stroking it away and tucking it behind his hair. But no, she would have just been reaching out to touch him and decided to tend to him, as she always did. Always reaching out to him, always trying to take care of him. Like Potter, in that way.

"Tell me what you can," Amity urged. "Take it as slow as you need. I know some of it but Lorena didn't send me too much information in case her owls were intercepted."

This didn't surprise him. He understood the compelling need to tell Amity things that weighed on him. He also knew that no matter what her emotions urged her to do Potter would very rarely act on them without precautions.

"There was a plan for Draco Malfoy to kill Albus Dumbledore and bring Death Eaters into the castle. You knew this?" Amity nodded, her expression almost thoughtful as she slid a little bit closer so that their shoulders touched. "He succeeded on the latter count. I was to take care of the former. His mother begged me to keep him from that – he's my godson, what could I do? – and Dumbledore himself wished for me to spare the boy."

"And Lorena knew all of this," Amity guessed, and he nodded.

"Of course. Anything that she shouldn't know she always does. And she thought…. She wanted to protect us both. Draco I can understand, she adores him, I've seen it in her mind, but I am… I am meant to protect her. To protect her and Potter, the only living remnants of-" It was _wrong_ to speak of Lily here, somehow he knew that. "-it's why I changed sides. It's what I've always tried to do no matter what atrocities I was made to commit and she… She tore her soul… to _save me_."

"Oh Lord," Amity sighed. "Everything's gone cattywampus. She did kill him then? It was her?" she confirmed, and he nodded wearily.

"Yes. It was her. I could not have stopped her, there were others present, and the result is the same, but…"

"But you've decided to feel guilty over this too?" Amity challenged. It sounded entirely too much like an accusation. It pricked him deeply.

"It is not a decision!" he snapped back. "I am guilty! It was for my sake-"

"Yours and Draco's!" Amity didn't let him finish the thought. "But you don't see him having a breakdown on my rug over it!"

"That is not-"

"No, you look here and me and you listen!" Amity ordered, and went so far as to grip his chin tightly so that he couldn't turn away from her. "You have got to stop this! You are not the lowest form of scum ever to crawl this earth and Lorena may not be of age yet but she's more mature than most have any right to be. This was her decision! She would have done it for Draco even if you weren't involved. This isn't your fault or his. It's hers. She made this decision knowing that it would… would tear her soul or whatever it was you said - which is a whole other can of worms we need to chat about – but you sitting here and feeling like shit because she loves you? Well, I can't speak for our girl, but I'd be pissed off that you're making yourself miserable when I just worked so hard to keep you from misery. Do you understand?"

She squeezed his chin a little tighter. "You're disrespecting her! You're acting like having her care about you is some great burden when you know good and well you're no picnic! Lord knows it would be easier if I didn't have Death Munchers or whatever potentially staked out outside my home waiting to murder me but I do and I'm fine with that because it's brought some amazing people into my life! Lorena, Harry, and you, you grumpy old bastard!"

Silence rang in the room as Amity's shouts faded. She was left panting with the intensity of what she'd just poured out. Her hand slid lifelessly from his face and was withdrawn back into her lap as Severus stared at her, jaw loose, and tried to find some way to counter any part of what she'd just said, but nothing presented itself. No loophole he could exploit, no excuse he could make, and he would sooner swallow his own tongue than fall back on spitting vitriol in her face after what she'd just said to try and help him.

Amity sighed and leaned back against the cushions, one hand coming up to rub her eyes, and it was only the second time he'd seen her look her actual age. There was a tiredness that came with life hard lived on her shoulders like a cloak as she muttered, "We have got to work on your self-esteem. You're worse than a teenage girl with acne before the prom."

It was so out of the blue, so ridiculous, so completely inappropriate for the seriousness of the conversation they'd just been having. It was the perfect thing for her to have said and Severus let out a rush of air that was as close as he could come to a laugh at the moment. Amity's mouth quirked up in the corners as she closed her eyes and rubbed a little harder.

"Oh Severus." She sighed heavily, reaching over and patting his thigh after a brief second of confirming where her hand was. For once there was nothing in the touch designed to make him uncomfortable or tease him. It was a simple, comforting move. "I think you've waster enough time not being happy. I'm not blaming you, not by a long shot, not with all you've taken on, but… There's supposed to be light at the end of the tunnel and it's like you're intentionally turning away from it because you don't think you deserve it, and that breaks my heart. Whatever you might have done wrong, you've done enough good to make a girl who has every right to mistrust everyone she meets love you. Whatever debt you think you owe, honey, you've gone further than most anybody else would have trying to wipe it out. Bless your heart." She sighed again and shook her head sadly.

He couldn't do this, couldn't sit here and talk like this with her. This was enough, enough to shake away the darkness that had been hanging around him like a cloak since watching Lorena Potter's face twist in rage and her wand flare deathly green. Anymore sitting her with her trying to bolster him and he might start to believe that he was actually worth something as she claimed, and he couldn't have that.

"I thought that was an insult."

Amity's face crumpled in confusion. "An in-?" She remembered their conversation from months ago and her eyes sparked with their usual mirth and happiness once more. "Oh, you ass!" She swatted his thigh lightly with the back of her hand. "Here I am getting soppy and that's what I get?"

"Let's…" He cleared his throat. "Let's not be maudlin. I've been told I do that too often."

"Sounds like a smart person," Amity smiled, turning and leaning the side of her head against the cushion so that she faced him. "What do you need from me, Severus? Drinking buddy? Caloric therapy? Shoulder to cry on? Tell me and I've got you covered."

None of those sounded quite so appealing as this. Just sitting next to someone who didn't hate him, so much so that she was trying to overpower his own self-hate. He could start to believe that he was worth something if he wasn't careful. More than that, he could start to care for… To maybe even… No one, not even Lily's perfect ghost, had ever…

"Just sit with me."

"You've got it," Amity said immediately, not even remotely perturbed by the fact that the clock on the wall said that it was three in the morning and she was sleep-rumpled and had every right to kick him out.

But she didn't. Instead she reached up and pulled the afghan from its place folded over the back of the couch and tossed it over them both. It amused him, her perpetual desire to be under a blanket whenever she was on the couch. But then she was snuggling closer to him, pulling her feet up to curl to the side of her and leaning against him. Her head fell to rest on his shoulder and she gave a sigh. Severus found himself pulling his arm free and draping it over her shoulders as under the blanket her hand laid on his leg, thumb moving in soothing circles. He tentatively replicated the motion against the skin of her upper arm and was rewarded with a contented sigh.

"You're an awful lot of trouble, Severus Snape," she mused. "You're lucky I think you're worth it."

Truer words had never been spoken.


	14. Chapter 14

"Severus, help me!" Amity whined.

"I fail to see your struggle," he replied as he settled deeper into her couch. Unsurprisingly, Amity was curled against the arm and had her feet tucked under his thigh. The pair of them held wine glasses holding apple wine that had apparently come from a place near Amity's hometown. It was far too sweet for his tastes, but Amity apparently preferred her wine that way.

"What does one get a witch becoming an adult?" Amity demanded. "I don't know what I should get her! Normal kids get a car or something, but I neither have that sort of money nor does she have the use for one."

"A watch," he replied bluntly. "Traditionally, parents give their children a watch for their seventeenth birthday."

Amity blinked. "A watch," she repeated, and took a sip of her wine. "Yes, I could do a watch. But should I?" She bit her lip and tilted her head, laying it against the back of the couch as she contemplated. "I'm not her momma."

"I believe you've more right than anyone else," Severus replied quietly, and Amity smiled a little at that.

"I suppose so, if I think about it that way. But how will I get it to her?" She frowned. "I don't know where she's going to be. I know she's at the Burrow now, but I don't know if something happens, she might have to move and I'll have no idea…"

Severus straightened slightly. "This is part of why I came to see you."

"Oh, you mean why you appeared at my door at eight o'clock at night with no explanation?" Amity asked slyly, and Severus resisted the urge to flush. It really was becoming a bad habit, simply appearing at her doorstep when he had something to tell her rather than just sending an owl.

"Yes," he huffed. "Lupin has been in contact with me."

"Lupin," Amity repeated. "That's be Remus Lupin, yeah? Her dad's friend? Werewolf?"

Severus smirked. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to be recognized as such, but yes."

"Well it's not like I'd say much on the subject to his face!" Amity insisted. "I'm just still trying to get used to the concept that they're actually real! Not all of us grew up with this madness, you know." She sniffed and nudged him in the side with a foot before replacing it. "Anyway, what about Lupin? I thought you two didn't get along."

"We can be civil," Severus said through clenched teeth, and he saw Amity smirk and shake her head, but she said nothing. "He will be attending the twins' birthday at the Burrow. He wished to invite me to join them. Most of the people there will be Harry's friends, not Lorena's. He thought it might be nice if I could be there. I was able to clear the time. I also mentioned," he hesitated ever so slightly, setting his glass on the side table to cover the pause before continuing on, "that you would likely wish to attend as well."

Amity's eyes widened and she sat up sharply. The wine in her glass sloshed and came dangerously close to spilling over her hand. She set it aside on the coffee table as she stared past him at the wall.

"Are you telling me," she asked slowly, "that you managed to get me in to see her on her birthday? Li'l ol' Muggle me?"

"If you wish."

"Where's your wine glass?"

"On the side table, why?"

"Cuz." And Amity shifted abruptly, lunging so that she was perched sidesaddle across his lap. He had half-expected it as her weight hit his thighs. He groaned a little as her arms wrapped around his neck and she hugged him tightly. She tottered a little and one hand came up to brace against her back instinctively to keep her from falling to the ground. He froze as soft mouth pressed against his cheek, just brushing the edge of his own lips. Obviously she had been aiming for his cheek, didn't seem to realize she'd partially missed, because Amity was already talking a mile a minute while he floundered to keep up.

"You've no idea how much it means to me, you really don't. You know, you're actually quite a sweetheart! And you'll come with me to help pick out a watch, correct?"

Severus nodded without really realizing what he'd agreed too, trying to forcibly wrench his thoughts back in line while they cheerfully skipped off down a road paved with intentions of kissing the Muggle woman in his lap senseless. "Yes, of course."

"Wonderful! We can go tomorrow, then. Agreed?"

"Yes." Severus blinked, coming back to himself. "Wait, what?"

"Mm, no take backs, should have paid better attention!" she chirped, and she was up and off of him, all long legs and smug smiles as she scooped up her glass and pranced towards the kitchen, singing, "This calls for another class of wine!"

* * *

Going out in public with Amity was a bit of an ordeal. For the sake of secrecy, he ended up wearing Muggle clothes, something he never enjoyed. It reminded him of summers in Spinner's End. From the moment he'd gotten his first pair of robes he'd worn wizarding attire as often as he possibly could, and as an adult wore it almost exclusively. For another, they couldn't be seen leaving the shop. Amity couldn't be seen on the street at all. Severus knew that the Dark Lord had stationed a very disgruntled fringe member of the cause outside the store, just waiting for Amity to come out so she could be snatched and brought to him for leverage over Lorena.

Added to that was the fact that pocket watches were the traditional gift and Amity and he had agreed that Lorena would prefer a pocket watch to a wrist watch. It was safer for them to shop in the Muggle world, and there pocket watches had been relegated to antique shops and thrift stores.

"This won't be pleasant," Severus warned Amity as she looped her hand around his elbow. "Apparation never is, particularly the first time."

"What's it feel like?" Amity asked somewhat nervously.

"Like being crushed."

" _Excuse me?"_

"You may vomit on the other side," Severus found himself adding mockingly. Amity was very white.

"What? _Severus!"_

"Off we go."

He turned and stepped into the compression. Amity's grip on his arm was like a vice and he heard his screaming next to him. Something in him softened. This had to be alarming for her more than many. He, at least, had control of where they were going and could see what was happening around them. Amity would doubtlessly feel like she was being suffocated with no knowledge of what was going on around her. She was entirely reliant upon him and his skill that she wasn't going to die.

He sent them into an alleyway next to an antique shop that was positioned in an area with several similar stores. It was a good thing he had, because the moment they landed Amity dropped his arm as if it was made of fire and staggered a short distance away. As he'd predicted, she doubled over a wretched, clutching her stomach and shuddering. He approached her warily and found himself pressing a supportive hand to her back.

"H-Holy…" Amity stammered. "That was… horrible." She wrinkled. "Ugh. I'm sure I'm very attractive right now. Severus, don't look at me."

"You're alright," he replied, and his hand moved a soothing line up her spine before pulling away. He vanished the sick from in front of her with a spell and conjured a cup, using Aguamenti to fill it and offer it to her. "Drink. It'll help settle your stomach."

Amity's hand came up to flounder for it and he pressed the cup into her palm. Amity sipped, swishing it in her mouth and spitting before taking a few short sips. Sheepishly, she passed it back.

"Thank you," she said shyly. "I didn't think it would be that bad…"

"I should have warned you," he admitted, feeling somewhat bad for taking amusement from the idea of her first time Apparating. "That was… my fault."

Amity shook her head. "Wasn't anything you could have done to make is better." She licked her lips and extended her hand for him, asking him to guide her, and Severus obliged, taking her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. She latched on tightly and he guided her from the alley and out onto the street. He noticed that she was far stiffer than she usually was, being in an unfamiliar place, and her head twitched and tilted in various directions as new sounds caught her attention. She took steps cautiously, setting her toes down first and then her heels, giving her gate and odd dip and sway. He knew that she had a cane she could have used to guide herself, but she preferred not to use it if at all possible, and he had no qualms about being her guide.

The place they had come to was one he had found through the Muggle phone book, a section of Muggle London known for several antique and charity shops. There was an eclectic mix around them. Older folks looking for something that matched their outdated décor, young men and women hunting for cheap furniture for their first place, and the few wealthy and pretentious who were looking for aged trophies to wave around like badges of superiority.

"Step," Severus warned her softly as they reached the doorway of one of the smaller, more run-down shops. He expected that Amity would be more at home in the quiet than the busier stores.

The place smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and mothballs, but underneath it all was the sent od old leather and paper that Severus enjoyed. Amity seemed to as well, as she took a deep breath in and smiled faintly. The door slapped shut behind them, jingling a rather sad cowbell, and the older, balding woman behind the counter looked up from a book at them, glanced away carelessly, and then did a double take.

Severus supposed that he and Amity did make a strange pair. He was dressed very formally for Muggle London, in dark slacks, a pressed black shirt, and a black vest. His usual dragonhide boots had been swapped for plain black Oxfords. Amity, meanwhile, was wearing her usual loose peasant blouse, a flowing skirt, and a pair of cowboy boots with pointed toes. She could not have looked more blatantly out of place had she tried, and they most assuredly did not match.

"Are there any watches here?" Amity asked him, lowering her voice to match the quiet atmosphere. He smirked faintly, noting that this was the first time he'd seen her out in public. Apparently she could tone herself down to match her surroundings, she simply rarely chose to.

"There is a display of jewelry near the register," he replied, and guided her over. As they passed a wooden bedroom set Amity trailed her fingers along the carvings of the footboard, the top of the nightstand, the handle of the armoire. She continued to run her fingers along whatever was in reach – a rack of old clothes, a shelf bowing under the weight of a half-dozen tattered old Bibles, and the top of a glass case which held old pocket knives and the like.

"What are our selections like?" Amity asked as they approached the counter. Severus peered through the glass. There were necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, cufflinks, some costume jewelry, some real and undoubtedly valuable, but the only watches they had were wristwatches.

"No pocket watches," he informed her, and Amity hummed in disappointment.

"That's a shame. Would you like to look around or should we head to the next place?"

They ended up moving on, as neither of them were the sort of window shopping and there was no point lingering in a place that didn't have the specific thing they were looking for.

The next shop was slightly busier, a bit more crowded, but it was predominantly for clothes, with a pitiful selection of antique jewelry. Amity ran her hands through several strands of paste and enamel necklaces with a displeased frown on her face.

"Well this feels underwhelming."

They turned to leave and Amity's foot caught on the leg of a nearby chair. It jerked and Severus quickly steadied her. It sent the precarious pile of quilts balanced on the chair spilling onto the ground, though, and Amity winced.

"I knocked something over, didn't I?" Her cheeks turned a shade darker as she bent down and began to grab at handfuls of fabric, trying to sort them out. Severus bent as well, folding the quilts into something reasonably resembling order. He paused when he realized he was the only one folding and glanced over. Amity was crouching, one quilt draped over her knees, fingers running carefully over the stitching, a faint smile on her face as she stared into the distance.

"Something wrong?" Severus asked, folding the last quilt in front of them and returning the pile to the chair for the lack of a better place to put it.

"It's a broken star," Amity explained, fingers continuing to trace the path of the stitching over the quilt. "This was made by a beginner."

Severus frowned at the quilt. It looked fine to him, exactly like one would expect a quilt to look. He assumed broken star was the name of the pattern, though how she knew it was made by a beginner he had no idea. Then again, the average person couldn't look at a potion and see the slight differences in color or steam between a masterful and casual brew.

"Feel," Amity urged, and reached out. He offered his hand and she dragged it across the fabric. There was a small, slightly harder spot inside the quilt that she pressed his fingers to. "Feel that? There's a wrinkle in the batting. And here?" She pulled his hand along some of the joins between the pieces of the quilt. "The stitches have an uneven tension, you can feel it. That's how you know it probably wasn't a machine. Modern machines have tension settings to fabric doesn't pucker or gape."

Severus nodded and took the quilt from her, folding it up and placing it on the top of the pile. He reached back, taking her elbow and guiding her upright, keeping watch for any more stray chair legs.

"You know quite a bit," he commented as they left the store. "I understand your earlier point, that just because you can't do something doesn't mean you don't understand the theory behind it."

"Broken star was one of my mother's favorite patterns," Amity explained. "She liked quilting, when she wasn't making clothes. She made everything I wore pretty much until she died, my prom dress included. She even made her own wedding dress with some help from the other ladies in the family."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you had family remaining on your mother's side?"

Amity snorted. "Oh sweetheart, do I! My mother was one of eight kids and her momma was one of thirteen. Rural Irish Catholic," she explained. "But her aunts and uncles spread to the four corners and only came together for reunions and special occasions, which doesn't exactly foster close relationships. And as for my momma, she was the youngest. By the time she was old enough to remember, the oldest four had either moved out or run away from home. She was close to the brother immediately before her, but he passed in a farming accident years ago. And the last sister, well, she's a raging bitch and my mother never had anything nice to say about her, and she could think up a compliment for _anybody."_

Amity paused as they stepped into their third shop. "I still have her wedding dress somewhere. Always figured I'd wear it when I got married. Even if her marriage was a disaster, her dress meant something. 'Course," she smirked, "I'm gonna need a groom first."

"Shopping for engagement rings then?" asked the woman working behind the counter, having heard Amity's last comment, looking at the pair of them with a soppy expression. "You two do make a lovely pair!"

"Oh no," Amity chuckled, and Severus resisted the urge to glare at the shopkeeper. "I just like giving this one a hard time. We're looking for a pocket watch."

"Pocket watch?" the woman asked in surprise. "Hm, not a common request nowadays, but I have several if you'll come look." She beckoned them closer to the counter, where again the jewelry was displayed under glass. The woman lifted out a tray of pocket watches, silver and gold, women's and men's. There were some with dents on the lids, some highly-polished and obviously well-tended before they were sold off.

"You'll need to tell me what there is," Amity reminded him as she reached out towards the watches cautiously. The shopkeeper, whose nametag identified her as Mary, looked mildly startled when she realized Amity couldn't see what she was looking at, but gamely recovered and began to explain for him.

"Who are you shopping for?" she asked kindly. "Man or woman?"

"A woman," Amity replied, and Mary nodded.

"Well, those are on the left side of the tray then," she explained, and shifted it a little so that those were within easier reach. "Any preference on metal? Silver, gold, tri-tone…?"

"Silver," Severus replied immediately, drawing a faint smirk from Amity.

"Of course," she mumbled to herself, and lifted up one pocket watch. It was silver, with a sparrow engraved on the front lid and fussy lacy patterns bordering it. Amity smoothed a thumb across the case, feeling the etching, and frowned slightly. "What is this?"

"A bird surrounded by lace," Severus supplied, and Amity wrinkled her nose.

"Sounds a little fussy for our girl," she judged, and set it back down before dragging her fingers along a few more. Again Severus wondered at calling Lorena Potter 'their girl' but he supposed it was true, to an extent. It certainly had Mary looking at them with hearts in her eyes again and he was starting to think of ways to convince the old woman they weren't a couple.

He averted his gaze, peering past the tray of watches into the rest of the jewelry on display. There were chunky hinged bangles, trays of engagement rings, earrings glittering in pairs against black velvet backgrounds, and several necklaces tucked inside a seemingly random selection of cardboard jewelry boxes.

It was in one of those that Severus spotted a simple silver chain with a long, thin tag dangling from it. There were four symbols running down it in a line that looked like regular English letters but with deliberate mistakes. It was familiar though, and with a small jolt of surprise, he realized where he'd seen the symbols before. Hanging in Amity's kitchen was a clay disk with the same symbols plus dozens more written in concentric circles. In the center the symbols were explained as being the Cherokee alphabet. How such a thing had ended up in a London charity shop he had no idea, but he wasn't going to question it.

Turning away from the necklace, Severus lifted out another pocket watch. It was plain, smooth silver with only a little detailing on the lid in the shape of a stylized rose. It reminded him of the mirrors that Potter had created and distributed with its plain and understated look. He offered it to Amity, who again ran her thumb over the design.

"Is it just blank?" she asked in surprise.

"There's a rose," Mary offered to her. "Lovely and elegant, that one is."

Amity shook her head again and gave a secretive little smile as she said, "No, not roses, not for her. Always tulips."

Severus looked at her sideways. Didn't every woman like roses? That was certainly the stereotype and it had to have come from somewhere. "What do you know?"

"Nothing, Severus, girl stuff," Amity waved it off, patting his upper arm fondly. "Not every girl automatically likes roses, you know," she teased. "For example, I prefer daisies and freesia."

Mary gave him a firm look, as if to say, _are you paying attention?_ The old woman offered another watch for consideration. This time Severus was the one to shoot it down. The inside of the lid was scratched with several pawnbroker's marks. He also rebuked the next choice, which was patterned with a rather masculine series of pinstripes all over the front and back.

Finally, Amity picked up a pocket watch that came with a single albert chain dangling from it. The front was decorated with a pattern of swirling filigree, but not terribly floral, and the edges were scalloped, which Amity seemed to like, judging by the way she ran her fingers along it. The numbers were plain and functional, the inside unmarked, and it was quickly declared the winner. Mary picked up a box for it to go in from behind the counter and began to wrap it up for them. Amity reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of money, pressing it into his hands and excusing herself to the restroom.

It was the perfect opportunity and Severus cleared his throat to get Mary's attention. He nodded to the small necklace and said, "That too."

Mary rolled her eyes as she retrieved the necklace and muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like, "Not a couple, right…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Happy Thanksgiving ya'll! Since I didn't have the time to get out another chapter of To Be A Slytherin before the holiday, I give you two chapters of Severity! One of which was already typed up nd I thought I'd posted ages ago... *cough* Anyway! Enjoy!**

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Amity was beyond excited as the day of Lorena's birthday arrived. She couldn't wait to meet more witches and wizards, the important people in Lorena's life. She felt like she missed so much while she was in school and being able to be there for Lorena's coming of age party meant a lot. It would be nice to see her again, and Harry. And seeing Severus around other people would be interesting.

He arrived shortly before they were due at the Burrow, which was an odd name for a home but Amity didn't judge. After gathering her up close – and she didn't mind that part of Apparation at all – they turned and vanishing into that god-awful crushing place and Amity couldn't stop the panic even though she knew it was alright and she'd come through safely just as she had the last time. She trusted Severus, but she couldn't keep herself from clutching on to Severus even tighter.

When they hit the ground abruptly she staggered.

"Steady on!" cried a cheerful woman's voice and Amity felt a pair of massive hands grab her under the shoulders and lift her bodily from the ground before setting her down firmly on her feet. She yipped in surprise and the hands quickly withdrew.

"Erm, sorry abou' tha'," replied a deep, grumbling voice from high overhead with an awkward chuckle. "Don' know me own strength sometimes."

"Hagrid, I presume?" Amity guessed weakly. Lorena had explained that Hagrid was massive in the extreme owing to being half-giant, but she hadn't quite grasped that it meant he could easily pick up her not-at-all-dainty self without really meaning to.

"Ye know me!" Hagrid exclaimed cheerfully. "Ye must be Amity, Remus told me about yeh. Yeh're L'rena's boss!"

"Something like that," Amity replied. "Speaking of which, I know there are other people here. Would any of them happen to be Remus?"

"That would be me," replied a calm but amused voice and Amity offered a hand in that general direction. It was wrapped warmly in two hands and shaken up and down. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Raincrow, Lorena speaks very highly of you."

"You as well, Remus," Amity replied with a delighted smile. "She adores her Uncle Moony." Severus watched, entertained, as Amity went about meeting everyone. Lupin flushed at the last comment, making the scars on his face stand out, and Tonks looked nearly beside herself with excitement. In fact, the moment that Remus released Amity's hand Tonks sprang at her and wrapped her in a hug.

"I'm going to assume you're Tonks, then?" Amity asked drily. "Lorena's told me about you too."

"Only good things I hope?" Tonks asked, finally releasing her.

"Something about a duck nose…" Amity trailed off with a smirk and Tonks laughed.

"How are you, Severus?" Remus asked politely, and Severus sneered in reply.

"As well as can be expected, Lupin. Some of us haven't the luxury of hiding out with their wife while the war goes on."

Remus's jaw clenched and he wondered if he could possibly put aside old differences for the day if Severus was determined to be as big of a bastard as he normally would. He had hoped the presence of Hagrid and Tonks would keep the other man somewhat restrained in his usual snide remarks, but apparently he wouldn't have any such luck.

To his surprise, it was Amity who came to his defense, stepped back to Snape's side and, after a moment of getting her bearings, whacking him in the shoulder. "Now Severus Snape, if you're going to be an ass today when we're all supposed to be getting along I swear, I will make today extremely unpleasant."

The other three watched in surprise as the tall Muggle woman shamelessly threatened the dour Potions Master, hands on her hips and an intimidating scowl on her face as she stared over his shoulder. Severus narrowed his eyes at her in reply.

"You'd only succeed in making a fool of yourself, woman," he retorted.

"Well, Lord knows I've never done that before and survived," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Her hand came up and, with Severus guiding his arm to her, she found his bicep and squeezed, smiling hopefully. "Come on, I know you've got it in you to be sweet."

Remus Lupin was absolutely beside himself with both confusion and amusement. They were perhaps the most unlikely pair of people he had ever thought he'd see. Physical and personality differences aside, there was the fact that Severus was magical and Amity was not. But the very fact that Severus didn't crush Amity's plea, especially in front of people he wasn't overly fond of, with a well-worded barb spoke volumes of how much the woman meant to him. Instead he simply grunted noncommittally and pinched his lips when Amity smiled at him in reply.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Tonks asked, leaning over to whisper to her husband. Remus nodded. "And you thought we were an unlikely couple."

"We're not a couple," Amity interrupted, and both turned to look at her guiltily. Tonks's eyes went wide.

"How did you-?"

"Well I can't see, but I have better hearing than a bat," Amity replied somewhat smugly as Severus glared at the pair of them darkly for the insinuation. Remus's eyes darted pointedly to the way Amity's hand was still curled around his upper arm and the glare intensified. "I've been trying for months, but this one is stubborn," Amity continued shamelessly.

"Congratulations professor," Hagrid rumbled, looking as amused as the rest of them, and Severus stewed in his annoyance helplessly.

"Ridiculous woman…"

"Are we waiting for someone else?" Amity asked curiously.

"We need a Weasley to get us past the wards that have been set up to protect the Burrow," Remus explained, then paused. "Erm, wards are-"

"I'm familiar," Amity replied wryly. "I've got some myself. Lorena's kept me fairly well in the loop and I've learned some things from this sourpuss. Some things are a little much for me to believe. For example, can you really change your appearance whenever you want?"

Tonks flinched, realizing she was the one being addressed a little too late, as Amity's face was pointing towards Hagrid. "Oh, er, yeah!" she replied, recovering gamely. "I was born that way."

Amity chuckled. "This will be fun then. I've got a rough idea of how everyone looks from Lorena's descriptions, but I'll have no idea about you!"

"I could try and describe myself," Tonks offered, but Amity shook her head.

"Why bother? Besides, it's a fun little mystery. Perhaps I'll imagine you with pink hair and eyes."

Tonks grinned, already fond of the Muggle woman who by sheer dumb luck had been invited into their world. She was as bold and brash as Tonks herself, and she could handle Severus Snape, which was no mean feat. For someone who had not been born into magic, she seemed remarkably calm about standing with a werewolf, a half-giant, and a Metamorphmagus, which was something even many wizards couldn't manage.

"Here they come!" Hagrid interjected, pointing down the lane where two red-haired figures had suddenly appeared from inside the wards. "It's the twins!"

"Weasley or Potter?" Amity quipped, and Remus laughed.

"Weasley. Fred's the one on the left and George is the one on the right," he supplied. "They normally try to confuse people. I, ah, don't know if they'd try it on you."

"Let them." Amity shrugged carelessly. They remained quiet for a moment, waiting for the Weasleys to reach them.

"Hullo Tonks, Remus!" Fred greeted, shaking hands with Remus before hugging Tonks fondly.

"Hagrid, good to see you mate!" George continued, taking one of Hagrid's hands and pumping it up and down firmly. He paused, looking hesitantly at the dourest figure of the group. The side of his head throbbed and he winced as the searing pain and the feeling of blood running down the side of his neck became forefront in his mind again. "Er… hello Professor Snape."

Snape's lips thinned and Amity looked at him curiously. No one else would know, but she had felt the muscles in his arm bunch and tighten at the greeting from George. "Weasley," he greeted calmly.

For a moment all was still as everyone digested the situation. Save Amity, everyone knew that George's conspicuously missing ear, still wrapped in gauze, was the fault of the man standing in front of them. Several expression's flashed across George's face and his twin subtly shifted closer. Snape's expression remained impassive.

Amity took it upon herself to break the awkwardness and thrust out a hand. "You boys must be Fred and George! Lorena's told me so much about her pranking professors," she greeted them jovially. "Amity Raincrow, it's good to finally meet you."

George jerked a little and Fred moved forwards, taking Amity's hand and bending forwards, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Unable to resist, Remus glanced at Severus and saw the flash of annoyance on his face before it was quickly wiped away. Amity laughed at the gesture.

"Down boy, I'm old enough to be your mother," she replied with a wink.

"No, impossible!" George joined in, scooping up her other hand and kissing it as well. "You barely look a day over twenty!"

"I'll take your word for it," Amity replied archly. "I see Lorena wasn't exaggerating when she told me tales about you boys."

George smiled proudly as he and his brother released her hands. "The stories are all true, I'm delighted to say."

Fred feigned wiping a tear from his eye. "I'm so glad our dear Rena is spreading our gospel of pranks and tricks even to the Muggle world."

Amity nodded. "If I had been able to get my hands on some of your stuff, I wouldn't have been messed with half as much in school."

Fred grinned deviously. "We'd be happy to supply you with-"

Tonks cleared her throat pointedly. "You lot remember I'm in law enforcement, right? Anything you were about to say would have gotten you fined."

"Ah, drat, foiled again." George snapped his fingers. "Come on, everyone's waiting for you to start the festivities. Mum's been driving herself spare preparing for this and the wedding."

They started up the lane with Fred and George leading the way to get them through the wards. Amity struck up a conversation and Remus attempted to engage Severus in small talk once more now that he'd been chastened by the woman on his arm. Husband and wife watched and listened in bemusement as the two interacted without even looking at each other.

"My supply of Wolfsbane has been dropping of late – dip – but I intend to restock soon-"

"No, I think it's fabulous that I was able to come – thank you, dear – and it's nice to meet more of the people I've heard about from her-"

"There's quite a bit of upset at Hogwarts – rock – as you can probably guess-"

"I'm not pleased I learned about it because of a dementor attack obviously – got it – but I wouldn't trade it for anything now."

Remus and Tonks exchanged bemused looks behind the back of the two of them. Neither had failed to notice as well that Amity's grip on Severus's arm allowed him to subtly guide her out of the way of any major unevenness in the road and he warned her of anything else potentially in the path. None of it would have been enough to send her sprawling, but it would have made her stumble and fumble her way towards the Burrow.

There was a feeling as if they'd stepped through a veil as they walked through the wards and Amity gasped and tensed up warily. "What was that?"

"It was only the wards, Raincrow," Snape huffed. "You needn't concern yourself." Despite his harsh words, his other hand came up to lay over hers. Only then did Amity relax and fall back into step with the group. Fred pushed the gate open, and Amity perked up at the sound of running feet. Severus saw Lorena coming flying through the garden towards them, and expression of delight and disbelief mixed on her face. Her jaw hung open wide.

"Close your mouth, you're going to let flies in," Tonks teased as they approached, and she snapped her jaw shut, looking to Remus for an explanation, then between Snape and George, obviously deeply confused.

"How-?" she asked breathlessly.

"It occurred to me that it wasn't fair to you that you were celebrating your seventeenth birthday without your friends and family while Harry had his," Remus explained gently. "I contacted Severus discreetly and he managed to get free and explained that there was someone else you'd probably like to be here."

"That'd be me," Amity chirped, beaming widely as she waved. "Also, I completely understand your issues with Apparation now, it's a god-awful form of travel and you people are mad for using it."

"Happy birthday, Potter," Snape greeted much more calmly, smirking faintly at the girl's gobsmacked expression. He had known it would be entertaining to keep it a secret from her. "It's good to see you."

"But… George…" She looked at him helplessly. "Are you okay with this?"

"I checked with George first," Remus added quickly.

"And I told him that today wasn't about me," George finished, and to his credit he seemed only slightly uncomfortable with having the man who'd taken his ear off not five feet away. "It helps that he apologized to me and explained that he was trying to take off some bloke named Selwyn's hand. Apparently he's got a fondness for Avada Kedavra, that one."

"This is… incredibly risky," Lorena said slowly, looking at Snape in surprise. "Also illegal." She glanced at Amity, who winked in reply.

"Always more fun if it is," she grinned wickedly.

Lorena beamed at that, a wicked sparkle in her eye that definitely spoke to her relation to James Potter and the fact that Fred and George Weasley had once taken her under their wing. She stepped back, a bounce to her movements as they filed in through the gate and began to approach the tables that had been laid out.

"A-Amity?" Harry choked out when he saw her standing there on Severus's arm. "What're you-"

"Remus is the best uncle ever, that's how," Lorena replied, beaming uncontrollably.

"Molly," Snape greeted their hostess neutrally.

"Severus," she replied, equally bland. "Come and have a seat, we were about to get started."

"Dad's gonna go off his rocker when he finds out there's an honest-to-Merlin Muggle here," George muttered to Lorena as he passed, and she snorted into her wine as Hagrid sat himself down in a magically-expanded chair and pulled Harry, Ron, and Hermione into conversation. Tonks and Remus walked around to get at the seats across from the Potter twins.

Severus approached the table with Amity on his arm. He pulled out a chair, taking her hand and placing it on the back. Amity thanked him with a smile and sat herself down while Snape took the chair between Amity and Lorena.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," Amity grinned, offering Lorena a box as she leaned over Snape, bracing her hand on his thigh. Severus stiffened slightly at the unanticipated and intimate contact and he checked Amity's expression. Sure enough, she was smirking, obviously fully aware that she was setting him on edge and not at all caring. In fact, she supplemented it by squeezing a little to add to her shameless smirk. Severus wondered absently how she would react if he had tried half the liberties she'd taken with him, before concluding that she was probably find it hilarious and be delighted. "Severus told me it's tradition to give you a watch when you turn seventeen. We picked this one out together."

"You've spoiled the surprise," Snape drawled, and Amity whacked his shoulder lightly.

"Oh, hush up, you, you said she'd be expecting one."

Severus watched as Lorena opened the box. Her eyes widened and he was pleased that he and Amity apparently had chosen wisely when it came to their gift. Lorena seemed awed as she looked the watch over and carefully lifted it out, examining it from all sides before popping it open.

She leaned over suddenly and Severus was only slightly surprised to find himself wrapped in a tight hug. He didn't complain though, secretly enjoying the affection and the horrified and fearful looks from those around the table that he'd taught. Snape pursed his lips and reached up, patting her arm calmly.

"Yes, it's all very sentimental. Kindly let go." It wouldn't do to let on quite how much he valued Lorena's bursts of physical affection.

Amity tapped his shoulder pointedly. "Excuse you, I think that hug was partially for me and I'll be collecting my part later."

Severus frowned at that request as Amity wiggled her eyebrows at him, knowing that she would indeed collect on it whether he wanted her to or not. Fred and George were spluttering helplessly into their drinks.

"Rena, I love your boss!" Fred chuckled, and Amity tossed him a grin.

"Thanks, Fred."

Fred gaped. "How in the hell-"

"You may look alike, honey, but you don't sound the same. Not to me, at least."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Raincrow," Granger called from down the table. "I'm Hermione Granger. Harry's mentioned you to us before, so it's nice to put a face to the name."

"It's say the same but I've got no earthly clue what you look like," Amity chirped in reply. Granger's face dropped in horror and Weasley give her an exasperated look as she floundered,

"I-I wasn't trying to… I didn't mean… Of course you can't…"

"She's mocking you, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted her fumbling. "Just ignore her, I've found it works best."

"Ooh, ruin my fun why don't you, sourpuss?" Amity scowled. "But he is right, don't worry about offending me at all, Hermione. To quote my mother, I'm made of hard and bony stuff." She grinned and Granger relaxed a little.

"I-I see."

We all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished.

"We shouldn't be here," said Lupin at once. "Harry – Lorena - I'm sorry - I'll explain some other time-"

He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight.

"We must go too," Snape urged, and stood, taking Amity's arm. She looked a little startled, but nevertheless let him pull her up, pausing by my chair long enough to bent down and kiss my cheek and wish me a happy birthday. They reached the fence and Amity, who couldn't climb over it with any kind of speed, yelped a little as Snape bent, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her over it. He stepped over after her and they were gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**I've wanted to include some cliché tropes in here for a while but our leading couple doesn't exactly lend themselves to it. Oh well, I offer you some of the most platonic drunken revels ever ficced!**

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Severus arrived at Raincrow Crafts and rapped on Amity's apartment door, holding a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. They would need it tonight, of that he was confident, because after tonight the real fear began. Yesterday the Ministry had been overrun by Death Eaters, the coup accomplished in a single night, and he had only just escaped the revelry and meetings. Now he needed solace, because the war had just taken a turn for the worse and he had no way of making sure Lorena Potter was safe.

The door opened and Amity was already greeting him with a confused "Severus?"

"How did you know it was me?" he asked dully, and she raised an eyebrow, frowning, easily able to pick up on the tone in his voice.

"You're the only one who pops up unannounced like this," she said quietly, stepping aside. "Come in, what's happened?"

"The Ministry has fallen," he said as he stepped over the threshold. He was surprised when he felt callused hands on his shoulders, guiding his cloak away from him. Amity stopped a moment, absorbing what he'd said, and then pulled the garment the rest of the way off, hanging it on the coatrack by the door.

"So… so he's won, then?" she asked uncertainly. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that means in the grand scheme of things."

"He hasn't one," Severus corrected and settled himself on her couch. "But it is a blow. With the Ministry comes the Prophet, and Hogwarts. There are three positions to fill at the school, assignments made by the Ministry, so he can slide three of his faithful into place to-"

"-to corrupt the children," Amity breathed, easily following his train of thought. Her eyes were wide, staring in blank horror as she hovered by the couch. A hand came up and pressed to her mouth. "Oh Lord, those poor kids. So they'll be… what, learning propaganda? Saying I pledge allegiance to Lord Whotsit?"

"Worse," Severus said hollowly, and months ago he might have been ashamed to show this kind of weakness, but now he reached out and took her hand, pulling her down onto the couch next to him. Amity came willingly, sinking into the cushions and pressing close so that their shoulders touched. Her legs folded under her, her knees pressing against his thigh. "He intends for the Carrow twins to take two of the positions. They are… brutal."

"Brutal… You mean… You _can't_ mean…" Amity looked ill.

"To them, Cruciatus and physical blows are genuine methods of behavior correction," Severus said, and he understood her feeling. He had no particular love for the students of Hogwarts – no more than they held for him. But they were children, too young to be dragged into the violence of the world. He and Amity both knew the lasting effects that could have on a child.

Now came the newest source of guilt for him, and it was a newer kind of burden, which in itself was impressive given all the atrocities he'd been forced to commit over the years.

"I will be given the posting of Headmaster," Severus admitted, as if he were confessing a terrible sin.

"But that's good, isn't it?" The hope in her voice made it all worse. "You can keep them in check, you can help protect the children from anything they might do…" She trailed off as he said nothing, merely shifted away from her. He didn't want her to touch him right now, not when he felt so disgusting. He couldn't stop the selfish desire to be near her though, and that was why he'd appeared with a bottle of comfort.

"Severus?" She scooted closer and now he was trapped between the arm of the couch and her body. "What's wrong?"

"I can't," he said brokenly. "If I spoke against the Carrows, if I protested their methods, then my loyalty would be called into question. Why should I care if they're torturing Muggleborn students? Why should it matter to me if half of Gryffindor house has black eyes? I wish I could but I can't risk-"

"You can't risk your cover," Amity finished for him, understanding coloring her words, as well as sadness. "Being headmaster means you have some influence but… you only have so much leeway. You've got to pick your battles. And a couple of black eyes aren't much considering-"

"-considering we live in a time when Muggleborns have been sent to Azkaban simply for being themselves."

"Oh Severus."

Amity reached up, pressing one hand against his upper arm. Her thumb moved in soothing sweeps over his shirt as she bowed her head and pressed it to her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she whispered into his skin. "For you, for those students, for all of it. This… isn't right. It sounds silly and naive to say, but it just isn't right."

Severus took in a deep, shuddering breath, wondering internally at the fact that without Amity Raincrow all of this would have remained bottled up and he probably would have been halfway through that firewhiskey by now alone in his rooms at Hogwarts. But now he allowed himself to break a little with her, where it was safe, so that he could heal stronger and face the coming storm. That he allowed himself this at all spoke volumes for how much he trusted her. It alarmed him to think that this closeness had occurred in a little over a year.

 _Amity makes things better._

"Potter was right," he murmured, and Amity twisted a little so that her cheek was against his shoulder instead of her forehead.

"About what?" she asked sadly.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I only… there is so much I have witnessed and been forced to stand aside for to preserve my cover. But the abuse of children is…"

"It's personal in a way other things aren't." Amity again finished his thoughts for him. _How did she always do that?_

"Exactly, yes."

"So you came here with a bottle to drown your sorrows?" Amity asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't think I didn't hear you set that down."

Severus winced. He hardly wished to present the image of a drunk, a man too reliant on alcohol to function without it. It had entirely too many unpleasant connections in his childhood as well. "It is hardly the best coping mechanism, I know…"

"But is that what you want to do?" Amity pressed. "Will it help?"

"Briefly," he said bitterly. "But nothing helps in the long run."

"Now is better than nothing," Amity said, and reached for the bottle. Severus pressed it into her hands, expecting her to go and fetch glasses, but instead she unscrewed the top and brought it to her lips, downing a hearty mouthful before gasping and crinkling her nose. He stared at her in disbelief. Amity pressed the bottle back into his hand firmly. "If it'll help, then you and I are going to sit here and get shit-faced together because drinking alone is pathetic and dangerous, but drinking with someone else is a night out."

Severus stared between her and the bottle in bemusement. "I don't-"

"You got anywhere to be tomorrow morning?"

"No."

"Good, then I can open the shop late and everything will be fine. Now catch up, you're a drink down. And maybe, if I promise not to tell anyone, we might even manage to get a laugh out of you tonight."

Amity's eyes were glowing expectantly and the idea of getting drunk with her to avoid reality felt so wonderfully… childish. These were the sorts of things you were supposed to do fresh out of school – make poor decisions, drink to avoid your responsibilities, have a night with a friend. Things he had never quite managed to do back then.

Amity laughed and nodded in approval at the sound of the bottle sloshing as he tilted it back and took a long drink.

"Now, do we get the sad stuff out of the way while I'm still sober enough to be of some use?" Amity asked. "Or are we going to just ignore it entirely."

"Potter has fled to parts unknown to fulfill a dangerous mission from Dumbledore and I have no way of knowing she's alive or not unless I use the mirrors she set up," he offered, and Amity nodded.

"Sad shit it is," she said, and took the bottle, downing two quick sips before passing it back. "She told me all about this, as it happens. The horcrux-hunting? And it sounds dangerous, but not in a 'let's have an aerial battle over three counties' kind of way. More an 'Indiana Jones and the Magic of Whatever' sort of way. They'll have time to prep and prepare, and you know Lorena will make sure they do if they've got the luxury. She's clever and so's that Granger girl, as far as I hear. Between the two of them they'll keep them alive."

"I know she is likely at Grimmauld Place," Severus corrected himself. "But it has been warded against me by Moody. I don't know if I could safely enter to check on them. And the place is being watched," he added bitterly, and took a drink.

"Christ," Amity muttered, and squirmed closer to him. "You know, I never wanted kids. They always seemed like a lot of trouble to me. But somehow I got one and I don't know how parents function. I don't want her crossing the street without someone watching her, let alone off trying to hunt for evil magical artifacts."

"We can trust that she is a very intelligent and careful young woman who won't take unnecessary risks-"

"-but it doesn't stop you from worrying!" Amity agreed, brandishing one hand. "This is bullshit," she muttered. "I'm getting all the stress and none of the Mother's Day gifts."

Severus chuckled quietly, shoulders shaking, and Amity smiled in delight giggling as she straightened up. She snatched the bottle from him, rising up on her knees and toasting.

"I made you laugh!" she cheered. "And there ain't even flying swine!"

"I did not laugh," Severus replied, forcing his mouth into a thin line. It didn't matter, she couldn't see, and for that reason he allowed a smile to stretch his lips. It wasn't anything compared to Amity's beam, but it was more happiness than he had expressed in quite some time.

"You giggled!" Amity insisted, dropping back onto her heels and pointing at him sternly.

"I have never in my life."

"A case could be made for a mild chuckle," she offered, before taking a drink and passing the bottle to him. he took it and drank as well.

"A mild chuckle," he agreed.

" _Very_ mild," she soothed, patting his shoulder. "Your reputation as a sourpuss is intact, this will never leave this room."

"I know."

And perhaps that's why it was alright to do these things here. There was no way any of this ever left this room. Amity's home was sanctuary and its steward was a balm in and of herself. She knew when to be serious and she knew when he needed to be distracted by her irrepressible humor to keep himself from sliding into the muck. It was an impressive thing, really. One that he prized above almost all else.

* * *

Severus woke with a splitting headache and a cottony mouth, a feeling he very rarely had. Drinking was a coping mechanism he was intimately familiar with. Getting absolutely plastered was not. He tried to avoid becoming blackout drunk simply because it wasn't worth it. What if something happened, what if this was the state he was in when he was called before Voldemort? The risk terrified him.

"Ooh…"

Severus opened his eyes and froze when he realized he was in a bed. And he was not alone. Memories of the night before began to trickle back in and he stared incredulously at the woman sprawled next to him. The warmth at his front was not, as originally anticipated, a pillow, but Amity Raincrow, still asleep. It felt amazingly intimate to wake up and see her, but also something he shouldn't witness. Nevertheless, he didn't stop himself as his eyes darted greedily over her features, devouring all the little details.

Amity was on her left side, facing him, and had one hand under her pillow. She other was curled and drawn up under her chin. Her lips parted lightly and she dipped her head, nuzzled into her pillow. One of her legs was draped over his waist, he realized with a start. They were not pressed very tightly together, but the positioning was still very arousing.

Moving quickly as he dared, Severus slid from her and out of the bed. Amity groaned in protest and flipped onto her back, hand coming down to drape across her stomach. He flushed as he recalled that at some point she'd announced that he was intruding on her home after ten at night and therefore 'he could deal with it.' He'd been about to ask what he was supposed to deal with when she had managed to worm her way out of her bra and pull it from the sleeve of her shirt.

There was a large plate resting on the stool at the foot of the bed that miraculously hadn't been knocked to the ground. Amity had begun dragging random cheeses from her fridge and preparing a plate towards the more sober end of the evening, along with a selection of crackers, and they had set about trying to find the best pairings with firewhiskey.

Their snacks had travelled with them when they adjourned to her bedroom for a game of cards. That hadn't made it, and the braille cards were scattered across the carpet. There was a piece of scratch paper that had started off as a score sheet for their hands of gin amidst Amity's lewd comments about strip poker. He had kept score for the first two rounds before Amity became bored trying to decipher her cards and took the score sheet for her own entertainment, doodling spirals and lines across it.

And resting on the nightstand was the bottle of firewhiskey that had started it all. It was emptied, and sitting next to it was a bottle of Wild Turkey that had started off the night full. They hadn't entirely drained it, but they'd put a decent dent into it.

Severus looked around at the absolute mess that Amity's room was in – he recalled Amity attempting a pillow fight which he had quickly put the kibosh on, he wasn't willing to cut quite _that_ loose – and wondered that he had been a part of making it. It was unequivocally the mark of a night of frivolity and fun, and those were not adjectives often applied to him.

The source wasn't hard to find, snoring softly among the wreckage, and Severus found himself smiling. Honest to Merlin smiling. Amity was… she was far more than he deserved. Far more than he had earned.

He found his wand halfway under the bed and picked it up, guiding the game back into its box and onto the shelf, banishing the plate and Wild Turkey to the kitchen, the rubbish to the bin. But when the evidence was gone he was still left with a sleeping Amity Raincrow and a dim memory of feeling warm and content and safe for the first time in he didn't know how long.

Severus stood by her bedside, not quite sure what to do as she slept. Finally he bent at the waist and, wary of waking her, gently pressed his lips to her cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered, before Summoning his cloak and Disapparating with a pop.


	17. Chapter 17

Severus sat in Amity's living room. She was leaning against his side, closer than she usually sat, and listening with rapt interest as he read from the paper folded on his lap.

" _The four suspects who broke into the Ministry are believed to be Harry Potter - Undesirable No. 1 – and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. His sister, Lorena Potter, known for a Dark predilection in her magic, was identified on the scene by Delores Jane Umbridge, a high-ranking member of the Ministry, when she stopped to taunt the Senior Undersecretary during the attack._

"' _This was a legitimate court proceeding in-keeping with Ministry laws and protocols,' said Yaxley, another victim of the attack. 'They had no right to interfere. It's sad to say, but I believe Mr. Potter's face has gone to his head. He thinks he can do whatever he wants these days, and damn the consequences.'_

" _His sister is hardly in better standing. Frequent readers of the Daily Prophet will doubtlessly remember the Dark actions of Lorena Potter from past articles, ranging from illegal entry into the Triwizard Tournament, being a Parsletongue, and assaulting fellow students all the way up to using Unforgiveable Curses and the murder of Albus Dumbledore._

"' _It is a shame Miss Potter has chosen such a Dark path,' Undersecretary Umbridge said. 'During my tenure at Hogwarts I attempted to coach her and guide her down a more respectable path, but I believe she had fallen victim to the arrogant misleading of her brother. They way the Potter twins play off of each other is, sadly, very toxic.'_

" _The list of charges being brought against the four perpetrators are as follows: contempt of court, aiding and abetting of prisoner in escaping, impersonating Ministry officials, false pretenses, magical assault and battery, unlawful restraint, lying to Ministry officials. An exploration has also been launched which may end in an additional charge of Unforgiveable Curses, as the current theory of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that this is the only way the four were able to get so deeply into the Ministry before raising any alarms."_

"Well it's a very impressive hatchet job," Amity mused, dragging her fingers along the edge of the paper. "If I didn't know any better… well, no, I probably still wouldn't believe it, but the average idiot might."

"And the average idiot does," Severus agreed. "At least, the average idiot who still believes in the Ministry."

"So what really happened?" Amity asked him curiously. "Do you have any idea as to the specifics?"

"Unfortunately, no," Severus admitted. "They will be safely back at Grimmauld Place by now, which has likely been warded against me."

"And you can't break through it?" Amity challenged, winking and nudging his shoulder gently with her own.

"I could," Severus admitted. "But I suspect Moody will have done it and he was clever and well-trained despite being a raving paranoid. It's risk I'm not entirely prepared to take simply for an update when I can contact Potter through her mirror."

"Maybe you should go visit her," Amity mused. "I don't know… has she spoken to you about Azkaban?"

Severus shook his head and Amity sighed. "Well, you know she sent some Death Eaters there. I think it is taking more of a toll on her than she wants to admit. The past few times she's called she's sounded rattled."

Severus found himself tensing involuntarily. He hadn't spent much time in Azkaban. Thanks to Dumbledore's testimony his trial after the first war had been blessedly short. However, he had been required to stay at Azkaban during the proceedings, and he still remembered the way the dementors would drift past the door, like a flicker in the corner of your eye that you couldn't be sure if you'd really seen or not. There was also the general depressing aura of the place. It had been one of the lowest points of his life, and that was saying something.

"Severus?" Amity asked uncertainly, having felt him tense up. "You okay there? You don't have to talk to her if you don't want to, just something I've noticed… I'm sure she's fine."

"It's nothing," Severus replied carelessly, brushing off her concerns. He distracted himself with folding up the paper and placing it on her coffee table, the smiling face of Umbridge pressed against the wood. He'd seen enough of that pink monstrosity while she was teaching to last him a lifetime. It really was a shame that the centaurs hadn't finished her off.

"No, it's something," Amity disagreed. "You don't get twitchy about things unless they're particularly bad. Which, for you, is saying something. What's wrong? Something about Azkaban?"

Severus pinched his lips together and glanced at her. After everything they'd been through together, all the times she had helped piece him back together on his rougher nights, it felt wrong to ignore that look of concern on her face, the way her mouth was drawn into a puckered frown and her brow furrowed.

"Azkaban is a hellish place," Severus replied quietly. "It's… not something I would wish on anyone, especially not Potter. Even for a short period of time."

"she's mentioned the dementors to me, and of course I've had my own run-in with them," Amity agreed with a frown. "I can't even imagine…"

Severus was startled as he recalled that her first experience with magic had come at the hands of one of those wraiths trying to suck her soul from her body. After that she should have been reluctant, even afraid, of the wizarding world, and yet she was trying to embrace it as much as she possible could. "You… really can't," Severus said softly, and Amity inhaled sharply as his meaning clicked.

"You were there," she murmured, and the absolute heartbreak on her face at the idea of him in such a place twisted his stomach into knots. "You poor dear…"

"It's always cold," Severus explained in lieu of a simple confirmation. "Because it sits on an island in the middle of the sea. You can never get warm. You're issued a blanket but it's barely a sheet and filled with holes. There are no beds, only a stone floor to lay on. After only a few minutes the cold seeps into your bones and you start to ache. And the dementors… every now and then they will linger outside of your cell door, as if it entertains them to watch the prisoners squirm. Seeing your potential fate standing, separated only by a single door, it makes it horrifyingly real. You have experienced the way dementors make you feel. Azkaban is a prison on which hundreds of dementors have brooded for centuries. The feeling that hangs in the air… it's indescribable."

"Severus…"'

He kept his face firmly towards the wall, not daring to look at Amity's face. He didn't like telling her these things, yet he also felt wrong denying her when she asked. He felt guilty over the way he felt slightly lighter while all he did was bog her down with his traumas when she had her own past to contend with.

A soft hand brushed his shoulder and then Amity was shifting. Severus was fully expecting to be hugged, but there was nowhere he could go at the moment, so he resigned himself to grin and bear it. Metaphorically, at least. But instead, Amity shifted and settled herself on his lap, dragging the blanket with her. He found himself enveloped by the scent of her and her apartment, warmth washing over him as she laced her arms around his shoulders and pressed close.

"And you live and teach in the dungeon?" Amity whispered. "How does it not remind you of that?"

He could understand the logic, even if his brain seemed slightly fuzzy. At some point he had shifted so that his arms wrapped around her waist, though when that happened he had no idea. The concept of holding and being held was so foreign to him, and yet it filled him with more peace than he'd had in ages, relaxing him enough that he was willing to admit,

"The dungeons of Hogwarts were a sanctuary to me far before I experienced Azkaban. It would take… quite a bit to take that from me."

He felt Amity's mouth twitch into a smile. "I see," she whispered. "Still, I… I'm sorry, Severus. I know it doesn't make anything any better and it's silly to say. But I am."

Her sympathy changed nothing of what he'd been through. Yet this was the first time he'd felt someone other than Potter had even the faintest grasp of what he'd been though, what he was still going through. That, more than her words, made an impression on him.

It was as he sat there trying to figure out how in Merlin's name he had ended up with the ridiculous Muggle he'd heard stories from Potter about wrapped around him that he considered dizzily that if he wasn't very careful, he could actually care for her.

The idea was staggering. Certainly, he had observed that this woman or that had pleasant features, but perfection had always had red hair and green eyes and freckles. Love was something he'd had decades of practice at, albeit not the healthy kind. The idea of putting it into practice left him feeling woefully ignorant and helpless, like an awkward teenager sitting and watching Lily smile at her friends with his heart in a vice, wishing desperately to be in their place.

None of that could be considered now. He wouldn't risk Voldemort finding her in his mind, wouldn't invite her into his world when there was every chance he wouldn't survive it himself, and she was a thousand times more vulnerable than he. Maybe, when this was over, if by some miracle he survived… maybe then, once all the drama was over and he could consider these things with any kind of commitment and length. Maybe then he would make an attempt. Maybe by some miracle she could feel the same, and all of her little jabs weren't entirely humor.

More terrifying was the idea of thinking of life after the war. What would he do? Teaching was out of the question. Perhaps he'd do what he'd always wanted and go into research and development. But how would he get started? There was a decent amount of gold in Gringotts thanks to years of living frugally, but the idea of simply buying a house and locking himself in a potions lab sounded dreadful when years ago it would have been heaven. Putting aside the fact that Potter simply wouldn't allow that, he wanted… he didn't know. Companionship, he supposed, after a lifetime without. He didn't really care what kind at this point. And suddenly it all didn't seem to terrible if he considered his future with that added detail, and he had the first flicker of hope that he might live.

Because of her and what she could mean for his future after the war, he wanted to survive.

Amity Raincrow could quite possibly be one of the worst things to ever happen to him.


	18. Chapter 18

Severus and Amity sat in her living room enjoying an after-dinner drink. Her turned the delicate stem of his wineglass around in his fingers He considered how often they ended up in this room, to the point where it seemed wrong to picture them together anywhere else. He tried to imagine her settled in his own house, curled up on the sagging couch, and immediately decided that he didn't want Amity anywhere near Spinner's End. The place was a nest of bad memories.

"You're thinking deep, depressing thoughts again," Amity sight from his right, where she was leaning against his shoulder with her eyes closed lazily, wineglass sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

Severus smirked. "How did you know?"

"Didn't," she admitted. "But that seems to be your default, so… Come on, spill. What's got you all contemplative this fine evening?"

Severus sighed and closed his eyes, winking further against the couch cushion. There were so many ways he could answer that, things that his drifted through his mind that were safer topics. Lorena, that was always a good one. He wanted to leave the war out of this for the evening though. It informed so much of what he did even here. He wanted one night free.

"I was wondering what it would be like if you were the one who visited me," Severus finally answered her.

"What, like at Hogwarts?" Amity asked curiously. "That'd be a treat for me, but I thought us puny Muggles couldn't come to the property?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Actually… The normal charm of making it look like a ruin wouldn't affect you, and the spell to keep Muggles from wandering in could be bypassed by bringing you in another way. By Floo. So theoretically, yes, you could visit the school."

"Huh," Amity said, licking her lips and smiling faintly. "Wouldn't that be a hoot, a Muggle at Hogwarts? Would I be the first?" she asked curiously, and Severus shrugged.

"To the best of my knowledge. However, I was… thinking more of my own home," he admitted.

"You never talk about where you live now," Amity mused, turning to face him a bit better, more for his benefit than her.

"Because it hasn't changed," Severus admitted bitterly. "I still live at Spinner's End, my childhood home. When I graduated I had already lost both of my parents, but between them they left no money. The area was wretched and only getting worse. I wouldn't have made nearly enough selling the place to afford another. I struggled to find paying work until I was hired on at Hogwarts, and even then as a new teacher I wasn't paid much. By the time I finally had some savings… it seemed easier to stay."

He didn't mention that it had also been a part of his self-imposed penance. Lily had gone on to make a warm, welcoming home with her husband and children, he'd see it himself when he went to Godric's Hollow, when he stepped inside the house and found… But it was a house she'd never get the enjoy, and so why should he be allowed to escape the memories that haunted Spinner's End?

"Oh for the love…" Amity muttered, and surprised him when she bent down, fumbling at his ankles and trying to work out the laces on his dragonhide boots by touch alone.

"What," he demanded, "are you doing, you mad Muggle?"

Amity looked up at him and winked. "You know, that's sounding less and less like an insult the more you use it, just so you know. And I'm trying to get you to let your hair down for once. You know, metaphorically. Half the time you're here I'm in my pajamas and you're always so… stiff. Take your tie off, Severus!" she urged, finally managing to pull his right boot off and setting it to the side under the coffee table, safely away from the path so that she wouldn't trip over it.

She did have a point. Very often he was still in his usual clothes and a travelling cloak when he arrived these days, not bothering to change into Muggle attire. But she often appeared barefoot, wearing shorts and a vest, completely relaxed and carefree in her own home. It did make him feel over-dressed on occasion, but it was not something he'd ever really contemplated changing, it was simply the way of things. He never went anywhere he felt comfortable enough to 'take his tie off' as she put it.

With a triumphant huff Amity pulled off his other boot and set it next to the first, straightening up and turning to face him, calves tucked under her on the cushion.

"Satisfied?" Severus asked archly.

"nope," she replied, eyes glittering with amusement, and reached out. Her hand settled on his stomach and then trailed up to his collar, following the long line of buttons to his throat, unknowingly leaving a trail of warmth on his skin in her wake. Severus sat, momentarily stunned, as she undid the first button with surprising ease. Then he realized what she was doing and reached up, catching her wrist sharply and inadvertently helping her pop the second button on his frock coat free.

"I'm certain this qualifies as sexual harassment," he pointed out, and he really should have expected the lewdly-bobbing eyebrows she replied with.

"Oh, I haven't even begun to be sexual with you, Severus," she replied with a wink, her other hand coming forward to continue her work on his buttons. "Come on!" she whined childishly when he caught her wrist, wary of any other involuntary reactions she may cause in him. "I'm sitting here in my pajamas and you're ready to go lecture students. I'm trying to get you to relax and unbutton a little. Literally," she stressed. "Because I don't think I really realized how damn many buttons you have on until now."

It wouldn't be the first time. He had relaxed his attire a bit the night of their drunken revelry over a month ago now, but it hadn't happened since. He supposed it wouldn't hurt though, to remove his frock coat. It wasn't as though she would be able to see how painfully thin he was anyway, something that a normal button-front tended to highlight and the reason he'd developed a fondness for the coats – they made him look less skeletal. In a way, his many layers had become his armor over the years.

"I would request that you act you age, but I feel I'd be wasting my breath," Severus said quietly, conscious of that fact that her face was barely a foot from his, held there by his grip on her wrists.

" _If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up… not me!"_ Amity retorted in a light sing-song and Severus snorted, dropping her wrists.

"Fine," he agreed wearily. "Do what you will. Within reason," he added swiftly when he saw the glint in her eye. Amity pouted at him.

"Ruin my fun."

Severus leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling and trying to keep his breathing steady as Amity fumbled her way down the long line of buttons along his torso before she finally split the front of his coat open, revealing the waist coat beneath. Her fingers swept back up, frowning when she felt the garment and running her fingertips along the lapel.

"Seriously?" she demanded as she undid the buttons on it as well and tossed the sides apart. Once more her hand settled on him, just below his sternum, and she gave an exasperated shriek of "Buttons!" as she finally felt his shirt.

Severus had to restrain himself from a low chuckle at her apparent annoyance with his sartorial choices. He contented himself with a lazy smirk, placing his hand over hers.

"I'll ask that you stop there," he warned, and she pulled her hands back, nodding in agreement.

"Fine, but these come off all the way," she bargained, tweaking the edge of his coat. Obligingly, Severus rose to his feet and pulled it and the vest off, setting them aside across the armchair. Clad only in socks, shirt, and trousers he admittedly did feel more relaxed, yet also far more vulnerable. He couldn't quite figure out if the trade-off was worth it.

He was also very annoyed that the decision that _yes it was_ was made by the fact that Amity turned her face up towards him and smiled brightly.

With a huff that was more show than actual feeling he sat back down on the couch and gave her a firm look. "Are you finished treating me like your doll now?"

Amity surprised him by shaking her head and scooting further down the couch and patting her thighs encouragingly. "Come on, lay down."

He recalled Potter once making a comment that she wished her brother could drop by and play with her hair while she glared down at a potion that was giving her particular fits. He had scoffed, though he had seen such a thing often between couples in his school days. He'd marked it down as a decidedly feminine desire.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, though he was fairly confident that he knew why. Amity delighted in poking and prodding at him, unknowingly luring him on with bright smiles and wickedly-dancing eyes, and by the time he looked around again he was always decidedly out of his comfort zone and not entirely sure of the line of logic that had led to him deciding that this was a good place to be.

"Because I've made it my life's mission to make you _unclench_ for two seconds, sweetie," Amity replied with a roll of her eyes. "Now come on, lay down."

"No."

"I'll pester you if you don't."

"I'll leave."

"No you won't."

"And why is that?"

"Because I can hide your shoes faster than you can reach them," she replied, and childishly stuck her tongue out. "Face it, dear, you're cornered," she said smugly. "Better you just bow to the inevitable."

Severus placed a hand on the cushion between them, slowly bending it and letting his torso lower. He twisted slightly and lifted his feet from the floor. It wasn't long enough for him and his legs dangled inelegantly over the arm, but he did, very carefully and very warily, lay himself down and turn so that he laid on his back, his head in Amity's lap, staring up at her. He crossed his hands over his stomach and asked sharply,

"Is it everything you dreamed?"

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," Amity replied, seeming bemused. She chuckled and reached out, tangling her fingers in the length of his hair spread across her knees.


	19. Chapter 19

Severus couldn't get the image out of his head. No one one his side but Narcissa, who had slipped him the key, knew that he'd gone down to the Malfoy's dungeon. Ollivander had cringed and turned to face the wall when he entered and Luna Lovegood had merely blinked at him and pointed.

"She's over there, sir," she'd announced calmly, before laying back on the floor and tracing patterns on the ceiling that only she could see with her finger.

And when he turned in the direction Luna Lovegood had indicated, he saw her.

Lorena Potter, chained to the wall. He remembered his own time in Azkaban awaiting trial, how the cold of stone could set into the bones and start and ache that couldn't be gotten rid of. She was bruised and battered, looked malnourished in a way she hadn't in years, not since her early years when she first came back to Hogwarts. Her eyes were sunken and bruised from lack of sleep.

The twist in her calf actually made his stomach lurch and he thought he might vomit when he knew he'd seen worse things but this was worse because it was her and on those other occasions he could simply kill them quickly ad pretend to torture a corpse while the others had their own fun and where to busy to notice properly but this time he was helpless, he couldn't do anything, his position trapped him and damn _Dumbledore_ and damn _Voldemort_ and _damn everybody_ because Lorena Potter was suffering _again_ and _again_ he could do nothing about it…

He didn't even try to justify his flight to Amity Raincrow's house time because he knew he was going purely for the peace she brought, and he needed that right now. He thought that this terror trumped when he found her collapsed in the stairwell bleeding her first year, or when he'd found her Cruciated in the apprentice's lab. At least then he could do something, could get her to Poppy, could make her comfortable and pour potions down her throat until she was better, but now? Any healing would be easily visible, and he knew that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop until she was the absolute pinnacle of health.

It was barely three in the morning but when he arrived on her doorstep and pounded on her door, Amity Raincrow was up and on her feet and opening the door in a flash, dressed in a vest and shorts. He lunged at her, instinct taking over, and dragged her into a crushing embrace. Damn it, he needed to help _someone,_ needed to do _something_ instead of being stuck in this wretched in between. He wasn't feeling things she way he should, everything was all jumbled up in a mix of helplessness and anger and bitterness and love, yes, a paternal love that he knew he shouldn't feel for the girl but he did and that added guilt to the mix…

"Shh, shh, Severus." Amity wrapped her arms around him and didn't squirm even though he knew he was holding too tight but he couldn't make himself loosen his grip. One hand came up and tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, guiding his face down into her shoulder. Moving together they slumped to the ground on their knees, clinging to each other.

The wetness took a moment to make its way through the many layers of wool he wore, but when it finally reached his skin Severus's head snapped up. Amity's face was trapped in a rictus of fear, tears falling down her cheeks silently, not a single shudder betraying her. She was trying to tend to him, he realized, before she let herself break down.

"what's happened?" she asked, and couldn't hide the shake in her voice.

"She's been tortured," he replied softly, and Amity's entire body trembled beside him, a sharp judder of fear. "She's alive," he was quick to add before the woman could panic. "She was… chained in the cellar when I left. She'd bruised. S-She's not sleeping or eating and he… he broke… her leg…"

Amity sucked in a long, slow breath to keep from breaking down and then he was the one holding her supportively as her entire body curved and bowed under the weight of her concern, the top of her head connecting with his chest. Severus reached down and gently cupped her chin, bringing her up out of her back-breaking pose and letting her jaw rest on his shoulder. Amity clung to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pressing against him as tightly as she could. Their legs tangled together uncomfortably and his knees ached from kneeling on the wood, but he didn't dare move as Amity smothered her sobs in his shoulder.

Severus blinked and he could see her chained to the opposite wall, below Amity's window, sprawled broken and unconscious against the baseboard with chains trailing off of her. He swallowed hard and blinked again and the hallucination vanished.

"I had to watch," he began to whisper, because he needed her to know that even though he was there it was the hardest thing he had ever done to hold his place and not try and destroy Voldemort for daring to turn his wand on their girl. "He was furious about a failed raid on a safe house. He knew it was her who passed the information on to the Order. It would have been a very large-scale attack had the Muggleborns and sympathizers been captured. He went after all of us. I was… I was knocked unconscious not long after he started on her. When I woke up I knew that I needed to see her, I h-had to know what had been done. Narcissa Malfoy, she slipped me the key, and when I went down there she was chained to the wall. She was like a doll… like a broken doll slumped against the stones…"

He couldn't quite accurately portray the horror that had filled him at the sight but Amity seemed to understand even if he didn't have the right words because she clung to him even tighter, shifting them a bit. Severus leaned back against the wall and in one motion Amity was straddling him, clinging to him with arms and legs like a child seeking comfort, and Severus knew how hard gestures like that came to children who had been deprived of childhoods like they were.

They both knew that they would have done anything to be able to stop this from happening to Lorena Potter, that didn't need to be said. It simply hung around them in the sky like a pall, unsaid.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Amity said instead, and Severus gave a bitter laugh that was more like a sobbing bark.

"It is no more than I deserve for the things I have done, to watch the person I… I care about most in the world… be reduced to that. It's seeing things like that that make me wish… that make me wish that it was all over, that Voldemort was dead and so was I and the world could begin to move on and heal from all of this.

Amity's hand snapped up and knotted brutally in his hair, yanking his head back to crack against the wall. In the dim light her eyes glittered with rage and he could faintly see the white of her teeth shimmering, a snarl etched into her face.

" _You don't get to die, do you hear me?"_ she hissed. "When this is all over someone's going to have to pick that girl back up and put together the pieces and I can try but I don't know your world well enough to know what to say or what to do. Even after the war is over and you all win, you will still have a duty to that girl because no matter what anyone says she is still a child and _damn it_ she should be allowed to be for once in her life! You don't get to be selfish like that, got it? You don't get t-to leave us all b-behind to sort this mess out ourselves! You've got to be here to help me patch her up and you've got t-to… to help me understand what happened and you've got to… to let me help patch _you_ up to, because damn it _you_ deserve some fixing as well. Your duty continues after this war, so you _don't get to die_ , do you hear me? _Do you understand?"_

"I understand," Severus whispered as Amity glared down at him from her perch in his lip, looking every inch a vengeful Valkyrie waiting to rip him limb from limb. He didn't know if he agreed that he deserved her patching up, as she put it, but she felt he did and so perhaps that was enough, that one person through he was worth saving.

"Good," Amity whispered, and sagged against him again, resting her forehead on the dip of his collarbones. "Besides, no matter what you think it's going to happen, I'd bet money you'll survive this. _She_ won't let you die."

Severus smiled faintly. He understood the idea that through sheer force of will Potter would make reality bend to her whims. It was what he'd just finished getting through Potter's head.

"I don't need Muggle money," he whispered in reply, trying desperately to lift some of the oppressive fear that seemed to hang over his visits to her as often as not. At one time he'd thought that to save her from that he should have avoided her altogether, but it was far too late for that now, they were both in this too deep.

"Wouldn't matter, you'd be dead if you won," Amity muttered in reply, sounding like a pouting child, and this bark of laughter had a little bit of real humor in it as Severus asked,

"Then what would you want for your victory?"

Amity straightened up and had she been able to see Severus would have said she was regarding him curiously. But that's exactly what she was doing, he realized as she reached up to trace one thumb along the edge of his mouth and his jaw, trying to get an idea of his expression. He quirked up one corner for her benefit and with a firm nod Amity answered,

"A kiss."

Severus blinked. "Excuse me?"

'You heard me," Amity said, and closed her eyes. "You survive this, and you owe me a real, honest to god, on the mouth - oh, what's the English way to say it - snog."

He watched her face, merely a foot from his in the darkness, and considered giving her the reward here and now, but a moment later she was bowing her head and folding into his chest again. Severus wrapped his arms around her and held her as they sat on the floor in the darkness.

"Why does the world do this to decent people?" Amity asked, and there was no denying the twist in her voice that showed that this question was one that she had held in her since childhood and had never been able to get a good answer to.

"I don't know."


	20. Chapter 20

Severus debated as to whether or not to return to Amity's residence after her meeting with the Malfoys, but after the number of times he'd dropped in on her unannounced, she had to be getting used to it by now, and it would be nice to drop in with good news for once instead of bad. Deciding that coming bearing gifts would (mostly) negate the rudeness of turning up unannounced, Severus pulled a bottle of elf-made wine from his personal liquor store and, with only mild hesitation, lifted the small, flat box containing the necklace he'd bought at that little antique shop over a year ago now.

Amity's shop was still closed, and he Apparated on the dark top step just outside the door of her flat. It was after dinner, meaning almost certainly that she would be in her pajamas by now and up for settling down with a nice glass of wine.

He raised a fist and knocked at the door. There was a shuffling noise and then the door opened.

"You know, Lorena's at least nice enough to owl first," Amity teased gently as she opened the door, already knowing, as she always seemed to, that it was him.

Severus smirked faintly. "Yes, but you've made it clear you enjoy my presence, so why bother a bird?"

"Ooh, he's got jokes." Amity's voice went high and nasal as she mocked him, but it was offset by the wide smile on her face and the way she stepped aside to welcome him inside.

"I brought wine," Severus offered as he stepped inside and hung up his cloak, pausing to pull the box from the pocket and tuck it against his side. Somehow, it made it slightly easier to contemplate handing it to her knowing she couldn't actually see what she was being given. However, that left him in the unenviable situation of having to describe it to her.

"You dear," Amity said fondly, finding his hand and lacing their fingers together, pulling him towards the couch. With his other hand, Severus flicked his wand. His spell summoned wine glasses from her kitchen and set the bottle pouring two generous measures, one for each of them. The bottle rested itself on the coffee table in between both glasses as Amity urged him to sit with her.

Severus noticed, as he sat, that while he was right about Amity being ready for bed, he was wrong about expecting her usual tiny shorts and vest. Instead she was dressed in shapeless white fabric that might actually have been a proper summer sundress on someone three sizes larger than she. However, the fabric swamped her to the point of being frumpy. More than that, the material was so thin that he could see the outline of her nude underwear through it and the embroidery on the edge of her bra was revealed by a keyhole neckline.

It was the most intensely unflattering thing he'd ever seen her wear, and yet somehow he liked it. Seeing her like this, with nothing at all to recommend her, made him feel like she'd achieved a new level of comfort around him, and that was a… pleasant thought.

"I suppose you're very pleased with yourself," Severus commented as he sipped his wine. Amity shifted next to him, drawing her legs up under her delicately and leaning her shoulder against him. At his words, she chuckled and reached around, pulling his wrist up and over her shoulder until his arm settled around her. Severus arched an eyebrow but allowed her to do as she pleased.

"Is that why you stopped by?" He took it as a sign of just how much time he spent around the woman that he half-expected the touch of slender, wicked fingers on top of his thigh as she spoke. "Interested in an encore?"

"Not why I came," he informed her firmly, lifting her hand and placing it smartly back in her own lap. She pouted at him.

"Why did you stop by, then?" Amity asked curiously, sipping her own wine. "Didn't get enough of my wonderful self this afternoon?"

"Not that," Severus disagreed. "I… have something for you."

He was no fool. He knew that giving jewelry to a woman all but screamed a certain kind of interest in her. He also knew that, for all he'd originally wondered, Amity had kept up the appearance of having an interest in him for far longer than she would have had it been a joke. She would undoubtedly want to see a gift of a necklace from him a certain way.

The question was, did he intend it like that?

He had no illusions about the fact that while many witches and wizards lived to their hundreds and beyond, the amount of abuse and stress he'd endured for most of his life had probably drastically shortened his lifespan. Still, he was now looking at a life with decades in front of him instead of months. Decades he would have to fill.

His cauldrons and potions would be his companions, he knew, as they always had, but he wanted more than that. After years of using his natural less-than-stunning demeanor to keep people at arm's length for their safety as much as his, he wanted someone with him. Lorena Potter would undoubtedly be a frequent interloper, but it wasn't… enough. He felt greedy for even thinking of trying for more, thinking he deserved it by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn't stop himself from dreaming realistically for the first time in decades.

There had been no one for him after Lily. Women he objectively admired from afar, women whose magical skill and intelligence he respected, but no one who had even come close to banishing dreams of red hair and emerald eyes from his mind. He had accepted long ago that romance wasn't something in his future. For many years it wasn't something he'd particularly wanted, after seeing how his parents' relationship turned out. After that it was more of an acceptance that he had nothing to offer a woman that she would want.

Then Amity Raincrow sashayed her way into his life on the heels of Lorena Potter and she seemed quite happy to take his nothing and repay it in spades with good conversation, quiet companionship, wonderful food, and the most breath-taking support of his situation that he could have ever dreamed of, all topped off with soft curves and a devilish smile. Suddenly red hair was black, emerald eyes were pale, and strained friendship was something forged in fire and strong.

So the answer was yes. For the first time since Lily, he actually dared to want.

"Is it more booze?" Amity quipped, winking, but Severus shook his head and withdrew his arm. She pouted again. "I was enjoying that," she whined.

"And I hope," he said quietly, lifting the box from where he'd set it on the table and placing it on her thigh, "that you will enjoy this as well."

A curious expression on her face, Amity set her glass aside and carefully ran her fingers around the edges of the box. A small frown crossed her face as she picked it up and fumbled for a minute before she managed to open it. The silver pendant gleamed and caught the light as her fingers dragged over it before following the chain up to where it disappeared under the cotton batting it was nestled on.

"A… bracelet?" Amity said softly, looking strangely hesitant and unsure of herself.

"A necklace," Severus corrected her. "I saw it in the shop where we found Potter's watch and purchased it while you were in the loo."

"Why?" Amity asked, and she seemed genuinely befuddled. Severus realized that all the months where he'd rebuffed her teasing for a dozen reasons had left her floundering for an answer as to why he would give her jewelry.

"I thought you would like it," Severus said, unable to resist the slightly mocking undertone as he continued, "That's generally why people give gifts, yes? And…" his voice dropped to a whisper, "it made me think of you and your home."

"My home?" Amity asked blankly, running her fingers over the pendant. "It's just plain metal… no, wait." She frowned again, continuing to trail her fingertips over the etching. "What's on it? I can't quite…"

"The circular tablet that hangs in your kitchen," Severus explained, and her face lit with understanding.

"The Cherokee syllabary? This is written in… Oh, I know what this is!" She beamed. "These little pendants… sometimes people sell them on reservations as souvenirs or at Indian-owned casinos."

Severus took that as a good sign. If it was something sold to tourists then it wasn't anything bad.

"What do the characters look like?" she asked eagerly. "Maybe I know the word!"

Severus had considered that it might mean something odd – for all he knew he might have given her something inscribed with someone's name, but he also knew that, again, Amity couldn't see it and she was likely one of maybe a handful of people in the country who would have any idea what the characters meant anyway.

"Ah…" Severus glanced at the characters stamped on the silver. They looked much like English letters but some had deliberate differences. "There are four… The first looks like a capital E, and then a capital I with a sort of wavy line coming from the side. Then a capital G with what looks like a W attached ot the top. And finally a capital T."

Her reaction to his description was intense but fast, so fast that if he'd blinked her would have missed it. For a moment Amity looked stricken, then distraught, and then accepting, and finally amused. It was enough to make him asked somewhat nervously,

"What does it mean?"

She reached out and patted his arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, I know you didn't know."

Now concerned, Severus repeated, "But what does it mean?"

"I love you."

The room hung silent and still for long seconds as they both digested the words. They were adults. They could hear the words said without swooning over them like lovestruck children. But that didn't mean it didn't make them wonder. Amity wondered what it would be like to know he'd actually meant what was written on the gift and not just gotten it for the symbols. Severus wondered what it would be like to hear Amity say that again in a much different context – while they made dinner, while they laid down for bed, while they sat quiet in each other's company.

Severus had kissed her not six hours before and while he would never be the type to compare such things to being struck by lightning or bowled over by a sudden epiphany or watching a fireworks display, he was aware that he… liked it. He'd been startled enough that his walls slipped just a little bit when Amity had seized him and pulled him close for a parting peck, enough for his eyes to crack open and see her beaming face, enough to consider that he liked the feeling of holding her, hands pressing tightly against her spine as she leaned into him, and knowing that for all the times she'd supported him when he came to her a wreck, there was a way that he could support her.

So hearing the words didn't trigger some major confession that had Severus proclaiming his love from the rooftops – but it did make him realize, to his great shock, that he thought he _could_ love her someday, something he'd thought lost to him along with the last tattered shreds of his soul.

Severus reached around and positioned his arm over Amity's shoulders as she had placed it before. Amity sighed, he felt the way her shoulders shifted, and then she settled, leaning heavily against his side and laying her head on his shoulders as her fingers dragged over the chain of his gift.

"Put it on me?" she requested softly, and Severus complied. It took but a flick of his wand and the necklace latched itself around her throat. The silver stood out against her darker skin and the pendant hung just above the swell of her breasts. "Thank you," she murmured, and arched her neck around, tracing the shape of his face with her fingers for a moment before she found his cheek and pressed a kiss there. "I love it."

Severus smiled faintly and pressed her wine glass back into her fingers as they sat quietly. At some point, after her glass was drained, Amity shifted so that one of her arms wrapped around his waist and held him to her, and he tilted his head so that it laid atop hers. That faint smile just kept returning to his face as every few minutes Amity's hand would come up to stroke across the front of the pendant and a shy, quiet grin crossed her face.


	21. Chapter 21

"Do you want to know what the paper says?"

"Eh?" Amity looked up from the bacon she was frying.

The morning after the gallery showing – which had been nice in that she got to meet new people but, oddly enough, the art didn't do much for her – Amity found herself making breakfast for herself and Severus, who had stayed the night after they came back from Diagon Alley.

"The Daily Prophet," he clarified. "There's something in here about us."

"Hit the highlights," Amity requested as she tended to a skillet of scrambled eggs.

Severus nodded in agreement as he adjusted the paper and began to read. "Hmm, there's the usual about my 'Dark, checkered past.' Skeeter did decide to go with the angle that I was using you for good publicity."

"Is she making you out to be the king of magical roofies or did she ditch that?" Amity asked curiously.

"Likely her editor made her take it out, that opens them up to a libel suit," Severus mused as he continued to glance through the article. "There are a few things in here. Ginny Weasley is apparently a gold-digger, Miss Granger is continuing her parade of famous wizards, and Skeeter's usual line about how Lorena will eventually turn out to be the next Dark Lady."

"Well, from what I hear, you're due," Amity commented lightly. "Two Dark Lords in the past century and not a single Lady. Evil is supposed to be equal opportunity, after all."

"It is mostly about us, though." Severus sighed. "No comment about how gallery charges will benefit local businesses affected by the war or the possible impact of Creevey's pictures which, I admit, were quite good."

"Which you of course didn't tell him," Amity teased as she fetched plates of eggs, bacon, and toast over to the table.

"I attended, woman, you can ask no more of me than that." Severus sounded faintly amused as he added, "Oh, and apparently your dress was the embodiment of a 'scarlet woman' and you were 'draped over me lewdly in a space meant for solemn remembrance.'

"Damn, I'm outright irreverent," Amity commented, unconcerned, as Severus flicked his wand and summoned the mugs of coffee to the table. She sat down, hand skimming across his shoulder as she did, and began to eat. Severus set the paper aside, though kept the story folded up.

"Will you cut that out for me?" Amity requested cheerfully. "First time I've ever been in the paper, let alone for something as fun as generalized public whorishness."

"You intend to frame it and put it on the wall of your store?" Severus asked archly, and Amity smirked, hand coming up to fiddle absently with the pendant of her necklace, which he had noticed that she only took off to get in the shower and then immediately replaced.

"Don't tempt me. I think it would look nice hanging over the knitting supplies, give the old biddies who come in something to gossip about. Honestly I've had three of them offer to set me up with their sons this week, it's getting a bit obnoxious. You need to come around more, scare off the matchmakers."

"Well, far be it from me to interfere with you and your parade of potential soulmates."

Amity aimed a dark look in his general direction. "You're not funny, Severus. You're really not."

"I simply find it amusing… this doesn't concern you at all," Severus commented, rattling the pages of the paper so that she knew what he meant. Amity blinked at him.

"Well, no? From what Lorena's told me most anybody whose opinion I'd gave two whits about knows that the beetle bitch is full of it. Why?" Amity asked blankly. "Were you expecting me to go hide in a corner and cry because of some bad press?"

"No, merely…" Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is likely only the first of several articles to appear about us. As you know my reputation within the wizarding community is… divisive at best, downright inflammatory at worst. Association with me, being seen with me at public events – such as the anniversary commemorations being planned – will put you in the crosshairs as well."

"And you're worried that it's going to damage my self-image or make me hate you or something?" Amity set down her fork and shook her head, muttering, "Lord, spare me the arrogance of men…"

She shifted in her seat, reaching out, and he offered his hand, knowing well what she wanted. Amity folded her hands over his and began to speak.

"Bad press doesn't concern me. I don't know if I made it clear – if I haven't, let me know, and I can try my hand at draping over you lewdly – but I really like you. I like you staggering amounts, in fact. And if this doesn't work out, well, chances are good I won't be in the wizarding world without Lorena with me to draw fire so who cares what they say about me? If it does and you're stuck with me, then it's something I'd better get used to, huh?" She winked at him. "If you want, you can talk about how I… I dunno, don't keep a clean hours or mistreat my owl or something, and I can start earning some mudslinging on my own without you having to be there at all."

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I should invite the staff of the Prophet to come visit. They'd see that both of us really do suffer from the other's personality."

"I'm a god-damned delight, Severus Snape, and don't you say any different," Amity said with faux offense.

"Or what?" he challenged. "Will you take away my baked good privileges?" he asked mockingly, and Amity smirked.

"For a start," she said, and leaned in, following her hand up from his and settling on his shoulder. She put her lips to his ear and whispered, "And I won't do that thing with my tongue you like so much anymore."

Severus found his cheeks going red, remembering exactly how much he'd enjoyed that thing the night before. "Hmm. A press conference might be bit excessive," he relented, sipping his coffee, and Amity sat back, smiling smugly.

"Yeah. I thought so."


End file.
